


Warden Awakened

by theramblinggirl



Series: How Fate Finds Us [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Future Vision, M/M, some canon divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-09-25 01:36:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 99,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9796607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theramblinggirl/pseuds/theramblinggirl
Summary: After the end of the Blight, Warden Nyx was prepared to settle into a new life as Queen and Hero of Ferelden. When duty calls in Amaranthine, however, she has to leave Alistair and their home behind and take on the role of a Grey Warden yet again. This time, as Commander of the Grey. Talking darkspawn have been causing troubles in the arling, and friends both old and new have joined with Nyx to put a stop to it.Cronus Amell returns to help with his splintered visions, though his motivations are questionable at best. Demeter Surana is just glad that she and her friend Anders can stop running for a while. Cadmus Andras comes from Orlais to avenge his fallen friends, though he also seems to be keeping a close eye on Nyx herself. Others are recruited along the way, strengthening the number of the Grey Wardens to face this new threat.(The sequel to Warden Reborn!)





	1. A New Day

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, it's finally here! This continues where Warden Reborn left off, with old and new characters to contribute to the party. You will be fairly confused if you haven't read that first, so I suggest starting there. But I'm not the boss of you.
> 
> I might get to throw in a little smut later, but for now this will be tamer than WR. This is also less shipping heavy since there's no real romance paths in game, but there will be a bit of that as we go along. Mostly this is about mysteries and intrigue! Which can also be fun.

  
_When love awakens in your life, in the night of your heart, it is like the dawn breaking within you. ...where before there was fear, now there is courage… When love awakens in your life, it is like a rebirth, a new beginning._   
**John O'Donohue**   


* * *

****

This was bound to happen eventually. Demeter Surana knew from day one that going with Anders to flee from the Circle was a terrible idea. He’d been caught every other time he’d run. Nothing had guaranteed that this time would prove to be any different. Now she was just as guilty of his crime, and all for the sake of protecting her idiotic friend.

_Idiotic_ best _friend,_ Demeter reminded herself. Was it so much to just not want Anders to get himself killed? Or worse, be made Tranquil? How many escapes would it take for them to decide he wasn’t worth the trouble? How many before they’d think the same of her? Would one be enough?

“Stop that,” she told herself aloud this time, whispering as they bolted through the rain.

“What did you say?” Anders asked.

Demeter shook her head. It was nothing. She knew what she was getting into the moment she left the Circle. There was a moment during their escape that she’d nearly been caught. It was that moment, the choice she’d made then to trick the cute, young templar—Cullen something-or-other—into thinking she’d simply had a bad dream and was wandering until she could get back to sleep, that sealed her fate. Once Demeter did that, there was no turning back.

Now the Maker was clearly punishing her with a storm that forced them to find shelter where they’d seen none for miles. While being pursued. Except that now, she saw that a fortress loomed up ahead. Maybe things weren’t so bleak after all.

Demeter, about to point out the place to Anders, tried to remember what it was supposed to be. After their week hiding out in Amaranthine, they’d had to move on due to templar patrols becoming more frequent. She’d learned what she could about the area, for practical reasons. Demeter had heard something about a Keep, and something about Grey Wardens.

If this place belonged to Wardens, it was as decent a neutral ground as they were likely to find. The order would probably be more inclined to recruit them than handing them into the local Chantry. Even if they were friendly with the templars, it wasn’t like Demeter and Anders had any other options.

Well, they had one other: catch sick and die in the cold. Which wasn’t much of an option at all.

“Think you could find a way to sneak into that fortress?” Demeter asked, needing to shout a bit above the heavy rainfall.

Anders grinned. Of course he could. He’d found passages in Kinloch Hold that Demeter was certain even Irving had no idea about. He was not just an escape artist. Anders could both find his way in and out of any place he wanted. Which made him handy to have around, in just such a situation.

They rounded the outside wall until Anders found a grouping of loose stones. He picked at the right areas until he’d created a gap large enough to shimmy through. How they were supposed to hide the giant hole in the wall, they’d have to figure out once inside.

For now, Demeter went ahead to scout, as she was better in a fight. Anders was more about healing wounds after the battle. Not that either of them wanted to go toe-to-toe with heroes of legend, but if it was necessary, they were capable.

They made their way inside, soaking wet in what seemed to be a quiet part of the fortress. All they needed to do was tuck themselves away somewhere warm and sleep for a while, undetected. Maybe they’d take turns, the person who stayed awake keeping watch to protect the other. Might be a better idea than just nodding off and hoping that the Maker would have mercy on two apostates taking shelter from a storm.

Demeter was about to volunteer for first watch, when the calamity began. Panic spread and Wardens ran right past them without taking notice. Anders rose his brows in a look to his friend, but Demeter was just as confused as he was. They followed quietly, curious to see what was going on.

Then, they saw the first of the darkspawn. They kept hidden, though their hearts pounded hard in their chests for fear of the creatures. It wasn’t their first run-in with the things, as they were unavoidable during the Blight, but that whole mess was supposed to be over! Plus, it was a Grey Warden fortress. There shouldn’t have been darkspawn there, of all places.

“This is bad,” Anders whispered, watching one of the taller darkspawn actually issue orders to the others. “Really bad.”

Demeter shot him a look. _Bad_ was a bit of an understatement.

They started back towards the place where they’d broken in, only to be blocked by a group of very angry genlocks. Demeter lifted her staff and coated them in ice, then grabbed Anders’ hand and made a run for it the other direction. They’d need to find another way.

But then, things got worse. Templars were in the fortress as well, busy fighting the darkspawn. Of all the things to be there with them, it was the exact group of people apostates would want to avoid. Demeter quickly rounded back a ways, looking for any other passage to be clear.

Servants’ screams filled the hallways as she searched. Eventually, Anders’ complaints joined in the chaos of noise, saying that his hand hurt in her grip. Demeter hushed him but loosened her hold somewhat. It wouldn’t do to injure her friend just because she was scared.

With no other way to go, they ended up going back in the direction of the templars. Maybe they’d be gone? Demeter could only hope, otherwise they’d have to figure out a way to slip past them. Those were probably the same templars that had been after them for the past day or so, which would make avoiding their notice far harder.

Demeter stopped short, a shriek dying in her throat. A few darkspawn yet stood, growling and feeding on the templars’ bodies, all of whom were dead. Demeter shot bolts of iced magic at the creatures, hoping to clear a path. Anders joined in, spitting fire from his hands.

Which was when the door flew open, and two women in heavy armor stepped through the door. One was in all red steel, and the other was in full dragonbone mail. The second had a mabari at her side, with swirling white kaddis that had managed to survive the rain outside. Demeter would have gaped at the sight of the second woman—pale with dark black hair and brandishing a glowing greatsword—if she weren’t so busy fighting.

The warrior women assisted in the battle, tearing through the darkspawn with expert skill. Even the woman in the red steel looked at the other with a twinkle of admiration in her eyes. When the monsters were dead, the women sheathed their weapons, but looked to the bodies of the templars.

“Er...I didn’t do it,” Anders said quickly.

Demeter wanted to hit him. If anything, that only sounded like they were more guilty. Regardless, it didn’t look good, so she added, “He’s telling the truth. They were dead when we got here.”

“Not that we’re broken up about them dying, to be perfectly honest,” Anders said.

Demeter was absolutely going to kill him if they got out of there.

“Who are you, exactly?” the woman in the red steel asked.

“I am Anders, at your service,” he said with a small bow and what Demeter supposed was meant to be a winning smile. Attractive strangers appeared and on went the charm. “And my friend here is Demeter. Both mages and wanted apostates.”

“Pretty sure one implies the other,” Demeter said.

“Apostates? In Vigil’s Keep?” the woman said, looking to her companion in the dragonbone mail.

“We were just stopping by. A short rest then on our way,” Demeter said, in hopes that it could still be true. By the look of fury in the first woman’s eye, it was unlikely.

“Yes, and now that _they’re_ dead and the darkspawn are dead, we should _be_ on our way,” Anders said, gesturing to the door.

The first woman rose her sword. “I don’t think so, apostate.”

“Mhairi,” the second woman said, gently pushing her companion’s blade down, “that won’t be necessary.” She turned to Demeter and Anders. “There are many more darkspawn in the Keep. Given your skill, you could be a great help in dispatching the ones that remain.”

“You don’t mind that we’re apostates?” Demeter asked.

“What you are in the eyes of the Chantry does not speak of your character,” the woman said. “And I’m not about to turn down help.”

“Well, tell you what,” Anders said. “We help you and we can discuss what comes later…later, once all these bastards are properly put down, yes?”

The woman actually smiled a bit, at that. The one named Mhairi still seemed unimpressed, but followed the other woman’s lead. Demeter was glad to know the angry one was not in charge.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

Nyx wasn’t sure what to make of the two mages she’d just met. They both seemed anxious to leave, probably concerned that she would see them clapped in irons and dragged back to the tower at the first opportunity. But Wardens were not and never had been templars, and she did not share the priorities of one.

She was far more concerned by the stories she’d heard upon arriving of darkspawn that could think and even speak for themselves. It reminded Nyx too much of something that Cronus had once predicted. Yet again his power proved true, and again she felt lost without her own knowledge of what the future held. Despite the effects she knew it was having on Cronus, she almost wished she had been splintered as well. She could have used the bit of warning.

They fought through the waves together, Mhairi proving to be a worthy recruit and the mages showing exactly how they’d survived on their own for so long. The Arling of Amaranthine was far from the Circle. The tower was by Lake Calenhad, on the opposite end of Ferelden, which meant they had come quite far.

The distance from Denerim was shorter, but for Nyx it felt as if it were the same. It was strange to think it, but the city had become her home. She missed the sights, the sounds, the people—and one person in particular.

Yet, Grey Warden duties outweighed the duties of her heart. She would return to her _vhenan_ as soon as the mess here was done with. By the way things were going, that would be a longer wait than she’d first anticipated.

Another room full of darkspawn awaited ahead, but with the sounds of someone already in combat within. Nyx pushed her way inside to see a familiar dwarf with a braided red beard and an axe bigger than he was. He chopped down an alpha all by himself, then turned to the door with a big grin on his face and waved.

Nyx couldn’t help herself, smiling and waving right back at him. Even Perseus gave a bark of greeting at her side. The rest of the people with her seemed confused by the casualness of the gesture. Still, she rose her blade and helped her friend with the rest of the darkspawn that remained. It was the least she could do.

“There you are!” Oghren said as she severed the head of the last hurlock. “When these darkspawn showed up I thought, ‘Just wait until the new Commander gets here and you’ll all be spitting teeth out of your arses!’ Followed the screaming, and sure enough, here you are. Good on ya!”

“Good to see you, too, Oggie,” Nyx said.

Oghren groaned. “Still not done with that one, huh? You aren’t wondering what I’m doing here or anything like that?”

“Well, yes, but I figured I’d at least say hello first,” Nyx said. “So…?”

“I came here thinkin’ I might try my hand at becoming a bona fide Grey Warden. Seemed to work out for you and magey alright, so sod it, why not?” Oghren declared.

“‘Magey?’” Anders parroted.

Mhairi made a noise of disgust, leaning towards Nyx. “He was here when I left. I can’t believe the Wardens didn’t kick him out.”

“Oh, he’s not that bad,” Nyx said under her breath.

“Hey, it’s the new recruit with the great rack!” Oghren said.

“...not all the time, anyway.”

“Yes, a prize for the Wardens to be sure,” Mhairi said.

“And a beautiful mage, too? Where do you find these ladies? You need to come drinking with me sometime, help me out,” Oghren said with a lecherous grin.

“I might be stunning, but I’m afraid I am a man,” Anders quipped. “Not that I ever let that stop me.”

“Oh? You the boyfriend or something like that? Should I leave you and beautiful over there alone for a minute?”

“A dwarf that smells like a brewery. How original,” Anders said.

“A mage comedian? I thought the Circle frowned on laugher. And happiness. Or at least that’s what magey would say,” Oghren noted.

“Whoever this ‘magey’ is, I have the feeling we’d get along.”

“You’d be wrong.”

Nyx was already in over her head with this crew. She spared a look to Demeter, who looked equally exasperated. Time to get this show on the road, before more darkspawn came looking to chew their faces off.

“We should go. There are more darkspawn in the Keep and we need to figure out how they infiltrated this place,” Nyx declared.

“Agreed. I need to introduce some darkspawn arses to my foot,” Oghren said.

“That axe of yours might be more useful,” Demeter noted.

“Oh, enough with the witty remarks!” Mhairi said, throwing her hands in the air. Nyx was inclined to agree. For the moment, they had more important things to focus on.

Men died that night. A soldier who had fought at Mhairi’s side in Denerim lay dying in a hallway, their arrival moments too late. Nyx ground her teeth and tried not to look at his face for too long as Mhairi closed his eyes. The recruit swore to avenge him.

Cronus had not written Nyx to warn about this attack. He had sent other messages in the past, warning of spies or plots against the crown. All ferreted out before they could cause any real harm. Cronus never left any information on how to get in touch with him, so Nyx only ever received the letters, never sent them. His apparent loyalty—if that is what it was—was appreciated, but Nyx still wondered about his intentions. Surely he had a plan.

She could see no way for this attack not to have come up in his visions. Either he intentionally didn’t tell her, or… Perhaps something happened. There was no need to start suspecting him. Nyx was simply unused to the lack of warnings, even now.

The group reached the rooftop, drawing Nyx from her thoughts and back to the fight at hand. Rain drenched their faces and armor, while the two mages shivered with cold. Their robes did little to protect from the weather when the water soaked through them. Perseus, trained as a wardog, kept his body taut even as his fur was drenched.

The talking darkspawn that Nyx had heard so much about on the way through the fortress stood before a terrified soldier, who had backed his way to the edge of one of the towers. “It has ended, just as he foretold,” the darkspawn said.

Nyx couldn’t believe her ears. The words were clear as day. And then he kicked the Grey Warden from the roof, a sickening _crunch_ echoing up the walls. The darkspawn turned to one of his fellows, who held a knife to a man who was on his knees. “Be taking this one gently. We are wishing no more death than is necessary.”

“Necessary? As if your kind has ever done anything else!” the man spat. He put on a brave face even as the hurlock behind him held his hair in a clenched fist and yanked it back to expose more of his neck. The darkspawn dragged the blade it held slowly against his skin, leaving just a small trail of red.

“You are thinking you know of our kind, human?” the talking darkspawn continued, coming to stand in front of the kneeling man. “It is understandable. But that will soon be changed.”

“Others will come, creature! They will stop you!”

Nyx approached, brandishing Stargazer. The meteorite metal glowed. Lightning struck and her blade reflected the light brilliantly.

“If you can speak, then you will speak with me. Tell your ally to lower his weapon,” Nyx demanded. Her voice boomed over the scene. Without even a word, she could sense Oghren’s surprise. She no longer appeared to be the same trembling woman he’d once traveled with.

“It seems your words be true, more than you are guessing,” the darkspawn said.

It seemed to be intelligent, by all rights. If it could think for itself, truly question and reason, then surely there was the capacity for morals? But the other hurlock held fast to its sword.

“Commander,” the captive man pleaded.

“Capture the Grey Warden. These others,” it said, glancing over Anders, Oghren, Mhairi, and Demeter, “they may be killed.”

“On your life!” Nyx shouted. She charged at the one who had spoken, but it responded in enough time to meet the blow at the last second.

“About time we shut that thing up!” Oghren said.

The other three, apparently, could not have agreed more. Perseus was quick to maneuver so that he was at Nyx’s side while other hurlocks materialized to back up their leader. That the darkspawn were organized enough for leaders and giving orders was a terrifying thing that Nyx refused to think about until she had a moment to really process what it could mean.

The man was freed when a blast of cold from Demeter sent the darkspawn holding him flying back, dropping its blade in the process. Anders backed her up with a fireball that consumed the creature. They must have been fighting together for a while, on the run and defending one another.

Oghren cackled as he swung his axe and cleaved through the side of another darkspawn. It was strange to fight with him again, like she’d slid into the past and the Blight still raged on. _Ha,_ well, it wouldn’t be the first time.

The leader put up the most fight. The others seemed to be mostly just as brainless as every other darkspawn, simply following a different leader than Nyx had known. It should have been a relief that there was no Archdemon in command, but instead it just worried her more. Especially because they seemed to target Nyx, in particular. She had not been here at the time the attack started. Could they have even been tracking her movements?

Nyx pushed the tip of her sword through the darkspawn’s chest at last, ending the battle. The blood was washed quickly from the stone as the storm continued overhead. Mhairi went to the injured man and helped him to his feet.

“Commander,” he said through tight lungs. “I owe you my life.”

“Are you alright?” Nyx asked. It sounded, from the way he spoke, like he’s gotten his ribs crushed in the scuffle. She’d been too focused on the fight to defend him from further injury.

“Nothing that will not heal, I believe,” he said with a curt nod. He looked over the ramparts, off towards the front gates. “Soldiers on the road. It seems we have more company. Hopefully they’re more hospitable than our previous guests.”

Nyx stood beside him to get a look from his vantage point. Despite the events of the night, a smile easily found its way to her face. “Those are no ordinary soldiers,” she said. “We’ll want to greet them immediately.”

The way back through the keep’s grounds was grim. They would need to set up a pyre after the rain stopped. A big one. It was a small encouragement to see that the men she’d rescued upon entering still lived, even with injuries. Even some of the servants had managed to hide in cupboards or run to where they would be protected. Despite the survivors she saw, Nyx could not deny that the night had been a massacre.

She clenched her fists and tried to find some hope, some strength. They would need to get to the bottom of this. No threats could be allowed on her Ferelden. Not with all the work she had been doing to brighten its future.

At the sight of the royal guard, Nyx relaxed. The king himself was dismounting as she made her approach. The others followed close behind her; Anders and Demeter flinched when they noted the presence of templars among the guards. Nyx did not even acknowledge them.

“King Alistair,” she said smoothly. “I’m surprised to see you, here. I’ve only just arrived myself.”

Alistair, the king, her husband, and her one love, grinned. “Ah, I’m afraid a...friend of ours was a bit late with his information this time.”

“It isn’t exact,” said a familiar mage. Cronus Amell bowed low to them both, though knowing him it was at least two parts mockery to one part sincere respect. “Commander Nyx, I was under the impression your departure would be two days later.”

“Conditions changed enough that I needed to leave sooner. It seems that it’s a good thing that I did, anyhow,” Nyx said. “You came in person this time?”

“As I’m sure you’re aware, the situation is messier than even us Wardens are used to,” Cronus said. He was busy studying the people gathered behind Nyx, his eyes distant. “I meant to warn you, but time isn’t always on my side.”

Nyx cleared her throat. There were a few raised brows in response to his statement. How could anyone give a warning about a surprise attack, unless they themselves were involved in its planning? The last thing she needed was for them to be suspicious of her lead informant.

“Too bad,” Alistair said with an easy laugh. “I rather miss the whole darkspawn-killing thing.”

“Your help would have been appreciated,” Nyx said, but smirked and added, “though unnecessary.”

“Confident, aren’t we, Commander?” he flirted back.

Nyx of course caught the bewildered looks of the templars and a few others when she giggled. When she’d been just another Warden, just another person fighting in some hopes that she might make the world a bit less awful, the sweet bubbly quality of her laugh was less of a surprise. Perhaps that was only due to the familiar company, at that time. But now she was a big, important person, with a persona people surely built up in their heads.

Suffice to say, few people expected that the Hero of Ferelden would _giggle._

Alistair blushed a little and cleared his throat. There was business yet to be handled. “What’s the situation, then?”

The soldier from the roof stepped up beside Nyx with a bow. He introduced himself formally now, as Seneschal Varell of Vigil’s Keep. “What darkspawn were left have fled, your majesty. Most of the Wardens who arrived from Orlais appear to be either dead...or missing.”

“Missing? As in taken by the darkspawn?” Alistair said. He glanced to Nyx in concern, their thoughts turning to the same thing. Normally those kidnapped by darkspawn became ghouls or worse. But these were Grey Wardens, already corrupted by darkspawn taint and thus immune from further effects of it.

“I cannot say for certain. I know only that we cannot account for all the Wardens,” said Varell.

Alistair nodded, a grim frown set deep on his lips. Nyx watched Cronus from the corner of her eye as he rolled on the balls of his feet like an antsy child. He knew something. He must’ve. She would need to speak with him the moment they could find some privacy.

“You are unhurt, I take it?” Alistair said, drawing her attention back to him. His brows were knit tight with concern.

“Nothing can take me down. You know that,” Nyx assured him. After all they had been through she was still standing and capable of wielding a blade, making her statement more likely than not.

Alistair chuckled. “I married an indestructible goddess.” He lifted a hand to her face, brushing a bit of stuck, damp hair from her cheek. His voice dipped low as he said, “I am such a lucky man.”

“Wait a moment,” Anders said, “you’re...you’re the _queen?_ Then that also makes you—”

“The Hero of Ferelden,” Demeter finished, staring with the same look of awe.

Nyx looked back to them. “Thought I’d be taller, did you?” But the mages merely blinked in response.

“You have quite the task ahead of you,” Alistair said. “I wish that I could stay and relive the glory days of Grey Wardening, but I’m afraid you’re on your own this time.”

“Well, someone has to keep Ferelden from falling apart,” Nyx said. She took his hand in hers, despite the awkwardness of the gauntlets they both wore.

“Hey!” Oghren boomed. “What am I, chopped nug-livers?”

“From the smell that’s not a bad guess,” Anders quipped.

“Good to see you too… _Oggie,_ ” Alistair said with a small snicker.

“Funny, I forgot how insufferable you two could be together,” Oghren complained, despite the big grin he wore. “I came to join the Grey Wardens, and from the looks of it, you could use the extra hands. Now where’s the giant cup?! I’ll gargle and spit!”

“You’re not meant to spit it out…” Nyx said quietly. “But you are welcome to join, if you wish.”

“Ha! Well smack my ass and call me Sally. I’m in!”

“I’d really rather not do that,” Demeter said.

“I…suppose all are welcome, in this dire time,” Mhairi reasoned.

“Joining the Wardens, eh? Well good luck with _that!_ ” Anders said.

Which was the moment that one of the templars decided to step forward. “King Alistair,” she said, her bow so quick and small that it looked more like a twitch than an act of respect. “Your majesty, beware, this man and his cohort are dangerous criminals.”

“The dwarf can be a bit of an arse but I wouldn’t go th—”

“She means me,” Anders interrupted Alistair, hanging his head. Demeter nudged his arm. “And, uh, Demi…of course.”

“Cohort? Really!” Demeter huffed.

“Yes, _really._ ” The templar crossed her arms. “These two are apostates. We’ve been tracking them for days with the intention of bringing them to face justice.”

Anders rolled his eyes. “Oh please, the things you people know about justice would fit into a thimble.” (Cronus snorted, apparently quite amused.) “I’ll just escape again, anyhow.”

Demeter looked to be suppressing a scream.

“Never!” the templar woman said, taking a step forward to intimidate the mages. “I’ll see you hanged for what you’ve done here, murderer.”

“What?” Demeter said. “ _We_ have just spent our time actually helping, saving people!”

“There were templars inside that building and now I’ve received reports that they died,” the templar argued.

“On the very same night that darkspawn appeared?” Demeter said. “A real head-scratcher that one. A true whodunit.”

The templar merely scowled.

“I suppose it is the Chantry is well within their rights,” Alistair said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “Unless… Have you something to add, Commander?” There was a glint in his eye. They’d been so in sync since the wedding, that Nyx could practically read his mind.

“I conscript these two mages to the Grey Wardens,” she declared. “As has been said, we require the help to boost our numbers after this attack. They have both proven their skills, tonight.”

“And they’ll even have a senior mage Warden to watch over them!” Cronus said, stepping forward. “Warden Amell, veteran of the fifth Blight. How do you do?”

The templar woman was fuming, but could make no argument. As much as it was the right of the Chantry to dole out punishment and capture mages, it was the right (or rather, the _rite_ ) of the Grey Wardens to recruit whomever they pleased in times of crisis or a Blight. It was how Cronus himself had been spared from whatever judgment might have awaited him before.

“Then...you’re staying in Amaranthine?” Nyx asked, looking to the more familiar mage of the group.

“Indeed I am. You will be wanting my help, after all,” he said. Meaning Nyx would know what outcomes his splintered mind saw.

“I-I will _not_ allow this!” the templar said. She actually stomped her foot on the ground and everything. “Perhaps that man is already a Warden, but these two are too dangerous to—!”

“I believe,” Alistair said, “that the Grey Wardens’ Rite of Conscription outranks your authority in this case. And my lovely wife is correct; they will need help for whatever this mess is.”

“If…” The templar woman sighed. “If your majesty feels it is best.” She turned and met with her companion, retreating to the rear of the guard.

“Me? A Grey Warden?” Anders said. Nyx worried for a moment that he might simply try to run from them, as well. Her protection could not extend further than this offer. But then Anders grinned and decided he was okay with it. “I guess that will work!”

Demeter was also sighing, though her reaction was of relief. “Thank you, Warden Commander. Or um, your majesty. Um…should I have bowed before, or…?”

Nyx shook her head. “Among the Wardens, it’s just Commander. Or, really, you can just call me Nyx. Shorter, that way.”

“If you have everything under control, I will need to take my leave,” Alistair said. He sounded about as disappointed about that as Nyx herself felt. It was difficult enough leaving Denerim and him behind the first time. Now she had to watch as he left her? And so soon? It was hardly fair.

“I wish you well on your return to Denerim, your majesty,” Varell said, bowing once more. “Commander, please meet with me in the main hall as soon as you are able. There are many matters to be sorted out. Not the least of which is the Joining. You will need to replenish your numbers.”

“Yes, Senechal,” Nyx said, nodding her head once in acknowledgement. “You are dismissed. Please take all of our recruits with you.”

“I assume you want me to go, too, so I’ll just…” Cronus said. He swung his legs in small semi-circles as he walked, whistling without a care in the world. Having his mind splintered seemed to just make him…odder. And more so by the day.

Nyx paid him no mind as Alistair took both her hands, stepping much closer now. Oh, would she miss him. She’d meant only to check the status of the Amaranthine holdings and greet the arrival of Orlesian Wardens sent to help in recruitment efforts.

After the slaughter of the Ferelden forces in Ostagar more than a year prior, Nyx was one of three Wardens left standing. The other was too busy being king, and the last was a mage with visions of the future who came and went as he pleased. It was hardly the brave and powerful order of legend.

Now the Wardens had been wiped out _again_ , and it was back to square one. Nyx certainly had her work cut out for her.

“I hate having to ask you to stay longer, Nyx,” Alistair said. “I had been hoping this trip would be short so you might return to court within the month. Things are much more...interesting when you’re there.”

“You just want someone to blame for how distracted you can get when you’re bored,” Nyx teased. “‘My apologies, Arl, I simply got lost in my wife’s eyes again!’”

“Well he fell for it, didn’t he?”

Nyx laughed. “I’m still not certain that he _did._ ”

Alistair took the chance to kiss her, while he could. They’d gotten somewhat used to these public displays of affection. It wasn’t like they could ask the guardsmen to cover their eyes for a moment while the king and queen snuggled. And they would absolutely not let a few curious eyes discourage them from stealing kisses.

“Just be careful, that’s all I ask,” Alistair said.

“You’ve no need to worry, I promise you. Whatever the reason behind all of this, I’ll find it,” Nyx said. Then she touched her lips to his just slightly to whisper, “I will miss you, _vhenan._ ”

Her use of elven was still a secret, for the most part. Those few who had overheard a phrase here or there passed it off as a result of the queen’s friendship with the Dalish, in particular the woman with bright red hair. Hera kept up visits whenever she could manage, with or without her own husband. Zevran always sent well-wishes when he was not in attendance.

“And I, you,” Alistair said. “Keep me updated on the situation here, Commander. I will see about sending a few men to assist while the keep is refortified. It won't due to leave the Wardens defenseless, when there could be future attacks.”

“Only if you're able. I can always try to find willing help in Amaranthine,” Nyx reminded him.

“Of course, love. I just want some assurance that this place will be safe enough for you.”

She nodded. “I know, Alistair. I promise you I will be safe.”

They managed their last goodbyes, difficult as they were, and Alistair mounted his steed once more. The guards and templars bowed out of respect for their queen, then lead the king away from the gates. Nyx waited until she could no longer see them, then made her way back to the main doors of the hold.

Cronus was just inside, leaning against a wall and waiting for her. “Good evening, your highness.” Yet again his tone lacked a great deal of sincerity.

“Good to see you, Cronus,” Nyx said. She decided it wasn't really a lie, despite how uncomfortable it was to meet his eye. With him and Oghren there, the whole place felt a little more familiar. It made the rest easy to adjust to. “Your predictions aren't usually off like that.”

“An accusation?” Before she could shake her head, Cronus continued, “No. Just concern.”

If he was going to predict her responses like that all the time, speaking with him would be maddening.

“Most of my visions placed your departure two days later. I would have sent word ahead of time, but I needed to come with you, this time. The situation is complex, and there are pieces of this puzzle that must be done in the right order. You stood to lose much before, and could lose a great deal again, should you fail,” he said. It was eerie how his speech had changed. Now it resembled his other self far more. Nyx found herself wishing he would spew a long line of curse words.

“Tell me first: could Alistair be in danger?”

“I don't believe it will go that far, no,” Cronus said, laughing when she sighed. “Always first priority, eh?”

Nyx would not bother responding to that. “Then what do I stand to lose?”

“Vigil’s Keep could be razed to the ground. Or the city of Amaranthine. Or both. Either way, you could also lose beloved friends you’ve not yet made.”

“And what must I do to prevent this?”

“Patience, Warden Commander!” Cronus said. “There is a lot to be done, and I will be here. I can let you know as things come. But first, we will all want rest for tomorrow. Big day with all the people joining our fair order!”

Nyx knew she was frowning. He should simply tell her what to do, so she could prepare. Then again, he had a point. With all there was to do, she would need sleep. Whether she knew what was needed or not likely wouldn't ease her anxieties much. Better that she put it out of her head, think of kinder things, and wait until morning came.

However, Nyx felt it was necessary to remind Cronus of one thing. “Understood. Do not forget that you are a Grey Warden. While you are here, you are expected to fight with us, follow my command, and kill darkspawn. I trust that will not be too difficult?”

“Of course not. On my honor.”

“Does everyone survive the Joining?”

“No,” he said. “You lose one.”

“Who?”

Surely not the mages, or Cronus might have interfered when she conscripted them. Then again, he could be unpredictable, even though he cared for mages and their rights. Would he have stood by in Oghren’s case as well?

“Mhairi.”

Nyx’s heart sank. Part of her had known it before he even opened his mouth. She feared for all their sakes, but had spent the past few days with this woman. There was no convincing Mhairi not to partake in the Joining ceremony.

“Do you see any way to save her?” Nyx asked anyway.

“She will follow your command, even if she hates it. You could just order her to leave,” Cronus offered. “I admit it’s harder to see. She died in most lifetimes.”

If it was the only option… “I will decide what to do by morning. No need to send her off now.”

Cronus nodded and let her leave. Nyx would trust him for now, despite the voice in her head that urged her not to. He wasn't just Cronus Amell anymore. He probably hadn't been that man in a long time.


	2. Join Us

Demeter awoke in a bed. An actual bed with a mattress and a blanket and two feather down pillows. She could not remember how long it had been since she had slept so well, or so far from Anders. He’d been given a room of his own, which neither of them had experienced since childhood. 

It had been really strange at first, making it difficult to sleep. Now she just reveled in the quiet and serenity. Sparrows chirped on trees outside, and she could smell bread being baked. Would she get a warm meal, as well? Oh, Demeter could just _die_ from happiness.

She went to Anders’ door before anything else. She had no other clothes, so she wore the same robe she had on yesterday. She was told that as a Warden, she would get a uniform.

Demeter didn't want it. It would be just as bad as the Circle mandated robes, made of cheap and itchy cotton weaves and color coded by ranking. She had traded those in long ago for something a bit more appropriate for an apostate on the run. For a while, she’d enjoyed the blessing of wearing pants.

Then there was that kerfuffle with a templar and she had to grab what clothes were nearest and dry. Demeter was stuck with only her robes again.

Maybe the Grey Warden outfit would also have pants. Were that the case, she would have to choose that over what she wore now. Demeter even considered tossing it on the pyre with the bodies from last night so she would never be subjected to a robe again.

Anders would not feel the same. He liked the breeziness of a robe. Or so he insisted whenever asked.

He was not awake when Demeter barged in, which came as no surprise. She hopped up onto the bed on her knees and poked his cheek.

“Hey. Wake up.”

Anders groaned and rolled away. She poked him again, harder this time.

“Let me sleep, Demi. Do you know how long it’s been since I slept this well?” Anders said with a whine of complaint.

“Probably the same amount of time since I did,” Demeter said. “Come on, I wanted to walk around and get my bearings.”

“Won’t they still be wiping the massive amounts of blood off the walls? Maybe we should just stay out of their way and sleep,” Anders grumbled.

Demeter frowned, but a thought occurred to her. “I think I heard a cat mewling outside last night. Poor thing sounded like it had been stuck out in the wet and cold. Might even be sick and in need of care…”

Anders sat up in an instant. When Demeter laughed, he fixed her a glare. “Damn you, woman. You’d better not be lying about this cat.”

“Come with me and find out,” she taunted, then slid back off the mattress. “Plus we can see if there’s any food. Imagine, a hot meal, cooked up fresh. Anders. _Imagine._ ”

“Yes, yes, I can see you salivating already. Let me get decent so I don’t show off my smallclothes to the bleeding Hero of Ferelden.”

Demeter snickered again, but agreed. She didn’t bother averting her eyes when Anders threw off the blankets. It was nothing she’d not seen countless times before, and he was covered where it really counted. Besides, they’d decided long ago they were too much like siblings to pursue anything together. There had been one awkward, drunken kiss, but it was slobbery and unpleasant, so they ultimately decided against it.

They wandered the grounds with caution. Demeter swore she’d not lied about hearing a cat, though neither spotted it. There were numerous nooks and crannies it might have found to hide in, so that was unsurprising. Still, Demi felt the fullness of Anders’ disappointment.

At least they did find that a table had been arranged with a number of food items for the recruits and anyone else who had made it through the night. Their joy broke a bit of the somberness that had fallen over the keep. Demeter even managed to fall into a conversation with Mhairi, who was already awake, while Anders went to attempt to flirt with Cronus, who looked like he’d never even gone to bed.

Anders was quick to return from that fool’s errand. It wasn’t even the fact that Cronus was taken (and had a _son_ ), but that his attitude was so off-putting. And he made the oddest remarks about things Anders was going to do, like he had any clue. Demi glanced at the mage Warden, curious, but decided against going to check him out for herself. Mhairi’s company was pleasant, and there was no need to interrupt that.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

Nyx reported to the Senechal first thing. There were many people already up, no matter of rank, that were scrubbing away the remnants of last night’s disaster. She tried not to look too long or think too hard on what had occurred. It was too early in the morning for such deep sorrows, and there was work to be done.

Senechal Varel brought her first to the small dungeon of Vigil’s Keep. Apparently, even before the attack, there had been a break in. Well, other than the two mages. It seemed a popular place to be for people of all kinds.

She sighed heavily. “You said it was a thief? Who would steal from the Grey Wardens? We aren’t exactly an order of wealth and riches.”

“Yes, well, you remember this place was run by the Howe family, before King Alistair granted this place to the Wardens? There are many fineries still tucked away from their time here. A few things were sold for expenses, but out of respect for a once great family we kept much of the treasures. Which means that if any thief were to hear that we’d been selling off Howe’s belongings…”

“They would assume we had more,” Nyx finished. “Where are these things being kept?”

“Vaults and treasuries. There are a few of them in the castle. Anything of true value is in the main treasury, which is kept heavily guarded. Our thief seemed headed towards that. He was well accustomed to the layout of Vigil’s Keep,” Varel said.

“Was he?” Nyx said. “I’d like to see our would-be thief.”

“As you wish, Commander,” Varel said with a nod. He lead her across the yard and over to the smaller building that held the few cells too nice to put under the castle. Those were reserved for truly heinous criminals or prisoners in need of interrogation. This thief had some talent with a bow, but with it taken from him, he was mostly harmless.

“Mind you, he’s bound to be in a foul mood. I also got the implication that you and he may have some...history,” Varell said, clearing his throat.

Nyx rose a single brow. Now she was _really_ curious. From what she’d been told, she had a sneaking suspicion, but it couldn’t be. He had left so long ago. Surely he wouldn’t return now, so soon after the Blight and after his family’s name had been dragged through the mud. All thanks to his rotten bastard of a father, too. If anyone should be away from the castle, it was Nathaniel Howe.

Nyx sucked in a sharp breath when he rose his eyes to her from behind his cell bars. She’d found herself missing Hera the other night, but now she really wished her spirit sister was there. Nathaniel looked so much older than Nyx remembered, and with reason. Not only had time passed, but he had clearly been beaten down by circumstances.

Nathaniel was tired, with bruises set under his dark eyes, but wore a determined scowl. The lines of his frown only deepened as Nyx grew closer. In her Cousland memories, they had played together as children, fighting with sticks or wooden swords.

When Rendon Howe came to visit Highever Castle, he brought Nathaniel more often than not, along with his brother Thomas. They were there to learn their father’s business; how to run an arling and be good to your subjects. But Nathaniel often ran off with Nyx and Fergus at some point to play.

Even Perseus whined as they stopped near the bars, recognizing an old friend. Nathaniel’s time spent training to be some sort of general did sharpen his muscles and his gaze, but he looked so defeated. Nyx could hardly bear to look at him.

“Nate,” she said softly.

“Don’t call me that, Cousland,” Nathaniel spat back. “Do not treat me as if we are friends.”

Perseus fell beside her, pressing his jowls against his paws and whining more. “Shh, Percy,” Nyx whispered. “I must admit, when they told me the thief knew the keep and wielded a bow, I hoped it was an odd coincidence.”

“I am not a thief!” Nathaniel shouted, grasping the bars with one hand. “This is my home. Taken by the Wardens as a prize after killing my father. Some say you were the one to strike the blow yourself. I never would have expected the youngest Cousland to become a murderer.”

Nyx did not react when he came closer. She refused to startle so easily. “You’ve been gone a long time. There’s a lot you don’t know—”

“I know the story. I don’t believe a word of it. Even if my father did all the things that you claim, I doubt he would have taken such actions were it not for the Blight.”

“Killing my family was justified by the darkspawn?” Nyx challenged.

“Your father planned to sell us out to Orlais,” Nathaniel said.

Nyx shook her head. “Baseless accusations, and certainly not ones that should have been on the shoulders of my nephew.” She would always feel the most rage for Oren, young and completely innocent, yet still a casualty of cruel men and their war.

“What is it you want to hear, Cousland? Regardless of what's been done I was squired away in the Free Marches, unable to act. You still took my family from me, took my home… I came here thinking I might kill you, but when I arrived I realized all I wanted was to reclaim some of my family's possessions. I can hardly burgle a place that ought to belong to me.”

“I agree,” Nyx said.

Nathaniel was genuinely stunned by this, watching silently as Nyx called over a random guard.

“See to it that his belongings are collected. We can escort you to the treasury to get anything of personal value or worth,” she said.

“I just told you I intended to kill you, and you're just...letting me go?”

Nyx chuckled, a very smile spread on her ruby lips. “I don't take it personally. Some of my best friends have tried to kill me.”

Now Nathaniel was truly perplexed. The guard let him out of his cell, but held onto the bow he'd wielded for the time being.

“If I might ask, do you have anywhere to go after you leave?” Nyx said.

“Honestly, no. I may just wind up back here. And your guards might not stop me, next time,” Nathaniel threatened. Yet, there was a lack of edge to his claim. He avoided Nyx’s gaze.

“The Wardens are in dire straights. Perhaps you should consider joining. I already know you’ve a great deal of skill,” Nyx said.

Nathaniel scoffed. “You'd want me among your allies after what I've said and done? Knowing that I want you dead?”

Nyx remained as unfazed as before. “As I've said, it wouldn't be the first time.”

Nathaniel Howe shook his head, clearly uncertain about the whole matter. She'd been tempted to simply conscript him, out of a need for help, but decided against it. After all Nyx (and Hera) had taken from him, rightfully or not, he deserved this choice at the very least.

However, the day wasn't even over before he returned, announcing his presence this time. Nyx smiled at him and gestured for him to follow. It was time for the Joining to take place.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

Five recruits stood in a line. Nyx walked past them all, nodding with pride. Cronus stood at a far end of the room, merely observing, while Varel stood opposite the Wardens-to-be. In his hands was the Joining Chalice, full of the nasty mixture of Archdemon and darkspawn blood, plus lyrium and a few other substances that gave it that _delightful_ taste and odor.

Nyx stopped before the final recruit, the woman with whom she'd traveled for days. Mhairi stood tall, showing no fear. Nyx hated to do this, but would not see an unnecessary sacrifice made.

“Before we begin,” Nyx said, her voice tight as her throat felt, “I must ask Mhairi to step back.”

“Have I done something wrong, Commander?” Mhairi asked.

“I have been advised to add you not to the forces of the Grey Wardens, but to the guard of Vigil’s Keep. You will still be in the service of the order, but will face different tasks.”

Mhairi was sputtering. Nyx knew it must’ve seemed like a punishment. She kept herself from looking to Cronus, the one who had warned her that Mhairi would die if she attempted to become a full fledged Grey Warden.

“Have I not proven my skill?” Mhairi said.

“Quite the contrary. You are an excellent soldier and demonstrated talent with you blade. I simply believe that your experience lends itself better to a long-term post. We lost many of our guards the other night, after all. We are worth nothing if our own base is unsafe.”

Mhairi bit her lip. She was so clearly displeased, but as a soldier she knew better than to challenge a command. Nyx had anticipated this, but still did not feel any better for it.

“As...as you wish then, Commander. I shall serve as I am able,” she said.

“Guard captain, please take her to the barracks. You will report to him from now on,” Nyx said.

She waited for the guard captain, who had been standing near Cronus moments ago, to gather Mhairi. With luck, she would not hate Nyx for this decision. It wasn't like she had lied about the importance of the position. It was simply different from the perceived glory of being a Grey Warden, fighting beside the Hero of Ferelden.

“Now we begin the Joining,” Varel declared.

Nyx spoke the ceremonial words, flashing back to the last time she had done this with Riordan. Just as it had done with Cronus and Loghain, the gathered recruits grew somber once Nyx was done speaking. Even Oghren swallowed in anticipation.

Nathaniel went first. His eyes rolled back before he collapsed, but Nyx checked his wrist and found a pulse. She nodded to Varel, and he moved on down the line.

Anders was next, and made quite the face at the taste of the mixture. He, too, passed out, but lived. Demeter was less dramatic about the taste, and stumbled forward and swayed before she ultimately went down. Oghren had the grace to burp after he drank.

No one died, just as Cronus had promised. Nyx sighed with relief. Waiting for a moment to see if any of the new Wardens who lied at her feet would rouse quickly.

Nyx herself remembered only being out for a couple of hours before her eyes opened to Duncan and Alistair. As always, thinking of Ostagar resulted in a pang of grief. It was followed by one of longing, remembering Alistair's hazel eyes watching her with such concern.

_Soon, my love,_ she thought, and dreamed of home.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

Oghren was up within five hours, which shouldn't have been a surprise considering his experience with being blacked out by drink before. He went right back to sleep, considering the hour.

Demeter woke the next morning, with Nathaniel opening his eyes by the afternoon. Demi watched over Anders closely when she could, which was most of the day. There were plans yet to be made before anyone could set out in earnest.

Demeter worried over her friend. Nyx had warned them that the Joining could be fatal, but had implied that the result would be instant. With Anders stuck in bed for so long, Demeter was no longer certain of the truth of that. She fell asleep in a chair by his bed the next night, waiting for him to get up.

Anders was no longer in bed when Demeter awoke again. She sat up with a start, accidentally tossing off the blanket someone had draped over her shoulders. It was already late in the morning.

She stood and raced through the halls, hoping to find Anders. Demeter stopped suddenly when she caught him and the Commander outside, cooing over something small and fuzzy.

“Demi!” Anders said. He held aloft the tiniest kitten Demeter had ever seen. “You were right about the cat! Isn't he just adowable?” He put on a baby voice as he snuggled the kitten closer.

“You should have woken me up,” Demeter huffed. But Anders just kept holding the cat at her and she looked into its big round eyes and… “Oh, dammit I can't be mad at you when you're holding that thing.”

Anders grinned. “My evil plans have worked,” he said. Then he turned to Nyx. “Think I can keep him? We might be able to train him to be a mouser. Keep the place clean and vermin free!”

“Well, someone should look after the little guy,” Nyx said. Apparently being the killer of the Archdemon did not present you with immunities to cuteness. “What are you going to name him?”

“I was thinking something along the lines of… Ser Pounce-a-lot? What do you think of that you little cutie?”

The cat meowed in response.

“That settles it then. Welcome to the Grey Wardens, Ser Pounce-a-lot,” Anders said, scratching the kitten’s head. “You can stay in my robe, for now. There you are.”

Nyx’s mabari growled a little at all the attention the little furball was receiving. The Commander just laughed. “It's alright, Percy. Nothing could ever be as cute as you.”

Anders rolled his eyes and nudged Demeter. “Dog people, am I right?”

Demeter fixed him with a look. “I think you're both weird. Birds are clearly the best.”

They spent about fifteen minutes more out there, all three of them heatedly debating what animal made the best pet. Perseus did try to weigh in with a few emphatic barks, but Anders and Demeter were not swayed. By the end they were all just laughing. Then Nyx finally excused herself to attend to her duties.

“So we're all…Wardeny now,” Anders said. “I wonder when it starts to feel different. Nyx said we don't really get any special powers, except the ability to sense darkspawn. And we're going to have nightmares, but she isn't sure how bad they'll be for us because hers started during a Blight. So hers included the Archdemon and everything but ours might just be random darkspawn which she says shouldn't be as bad.”

“You really talked with the Commander a lot this morning,” Demeter said.

“Well, yeah. She's just got so many stories about the Blight and the king and everything,” Anders said. “What, are you jealous that I have someone else to spend so much time with?”

Demeter narrowed her eyes. “More like relieved that I'm not the only one to look out for your sorry ass anymore.” Then she smirked, just to make sure he knew she was joking. “Since we're kind of stuck here, what are you going to do about _the thing?_ It's not like we can just hop on a boat to Kirkwall now.”

“I'll figure something out,” Anders said. He kept his hand on Ser Pounce's head. “Don't concern yourself with that.”

“I just wondered if you weren't going to just run again at the first opportunity. I expect that you'll leave me behind if you ever do.”

“Leave you? No way. Things would get so terribly boring on my own. Then what would I do?”

Demeter didn't believe him. “Probably cry.”

“Exactly.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “Face it Demi, we’re a pair now. We go together like...mages and fireballs.”

“Darkspawn and Blights.”

“Templars and brain damage.”

Demeter laughed. “Damn. Stone cold. I would've gone with Templars and lyrium but I suppose yours works, too.”

“You understand me. Let's get married,” Anders said, pressing his cheek to hers.

“Not even if Andraste herself rose from the grave and told me we were destined for each other,” Demeter insisted. “And by the way, you could do with another shave. You've got scratchy chin.”

“I dunno, I kind of like the scruff.”

“Blech. Men are best clean shaven.”

“That's just your elven sensibilities, I'm sure.”

Demeter glared at him. “No. It's just a preference.”

Anders shrugged. “If you say so.”

“This is also why I _prefer_ women,” Demeter said, pushing him away.

Anders just laughed a bit more and followed her back into the Keep. Surely there was something for them to do other than goof off.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

Nyx would have drowned those first few days were it not for her experience as queen. Nobles came from all over the hold of Amaranthine to greet the new purveyors of the land. Each was more petty and obnoxious than the last.

Commoners came as well with requests for the Wardens. Some had more reports of darkspawn on the surface. Those made Nyx feel like she was in the middle of a very bad dream. Those times were supposed to have ended with the Blight.

Others had requests about protection of their farms or complaints of a lack of supplies thanks to the conditions on the roads. Trade was stunted so long as the creatures made it dangerous for anyone to travel. Even the city itself had trouble accommodating its number under the circumstances.

The best way to help everyone in a balanced manner was to protect trade routes. Of course, that didn't mean complaints could end. If Nyx was able, she would have offered guards for everyone, but they simply lacked in numbers. Even with Mhairi newly recruited to them (and by all reports excelling at every task she'd been given) their force wasn't strong enough to suit the demands.

And to top all of that off, there was some supposed plot against Nyx. She had enough of that with Loghain loyalists who wanted Alistair dethroned. Now she was dealing with affronts on her own person. Varel had a few suggestions for how to proceed, but Nyx did not want to fool around.

Cronus suggested going to the mysterious Dark Wolf in the city. It would cost quite a bit of coin, but would be safest and most efficient in routing out the nobles who plotted against her. They would seek him out as soon as possible.

But Nyx didn't feel comfortable leaving the hold in such a state. Until more business was settled right there on their home turf, she didn't want to explore the rumors and reports that had been flowing slowly in.

The start of that was exploring an underground collapse. Reports suggested that due to a part of the Deep Roads being directly beneath Vigil’s Keep, that the darkspawn had simply tunneled in. This could not stand.

Nathaniel claimed to have no idea that there was a section of the ancient dwarven roads beneath their feet. Nyx didn't doubt him, even though it was difficult to imagine not being aware of every bit of the land he'd grown up in. Perhaps she was just over cautious. She could still name many escape routes for the castles in both Highever and Denerim.

Everyone had been bored with nowhere to go, so despite thinking that it may be overkill, Nyx brought along all her new recruits as well as Cronus. Nathaniel at least made sense to have along for his knowledge of the keep. Cronus was necessary for his splintered abilities. The other three would just be good backup.

They made quick work of the darkspawn that still remained in the building, all showing their individual skills and working decently as a team. Not _great,_ as Oghren had to dodge a couple of fireballs and Demeter got elbowed by Nathaniel when he didn’t realize she was standing close to him, but decent. Nyx would need to whip them into shape if they were going to go into future fights together.

Perseus whined loudly at the sight of a fallen mabari, whose chest still barely moved with each weighty breath it took. Nyx called Anders over quickly, as he had already demonstrated some of his healing spells earlier. The dog was able to stand with some help, though he still moved slowly. He had a note strapped onto his collar, describing the attack and mentioning that someone by the name Adria had been trapped deep in the building.

“Adria? She was...she was like a mother to me,” Nathaniel said, his face colored with concern. “We have to help her.”

“We will do our best,” Nyx promised. She would not tell him that they would save her for certain. Given the time that had passed, if Adria was still alive, she was probably wishing that she wasn’t. Tamlen had once begged for a merciful death, rather than living as a ghoul. Nyx imagined most people would ask for the same, if forced into that choice.

Before they could even find the hole to the Deep Roads, however, Nathaniel insisted on going off into another part of the halls. This had once been his home, so of course he knew every inch of it.

“This was one of the things I’d planned to get,” Nathaniel said. He drew out a bow, made of pale wood and varnished to appear as if it was a pristine white. There were places where the varnish had chipped and cracked from age, but it still looked powerful and well-crafted. “It’s a family heirloom. The last to wield it was my grandfather. I knew your men couldn’t have found it. Not in this part of the keep.”

“I’m glad you’ve found it,” Nyx said. “I’m sorry that so much has been taken from you.”

Nathaniel looked at her bitterly and did not respond. He wasn’t ready to hear things like that from her, yet. He didn’t wish for her pity or kindness. There was hope in him still that he’d find something in her worth hating, instead.

“We need to keep moving. Adria has to be in here, somewhere,” Nathaniel spat.

But they were too late, as was so often the case. Nyx hated to watch as Nathaniel lost hope that the woman would be alright. Adria’s face was hollow and sunken, her skin blackened and patchy. Her eyes were pale and her hair was falling out. The dress she wore already looked like it hung on her unnaturally, less like she was malnourished and more like she had already begun to rot away as a ghoul.

“No,” Nathaniel breathed. “No, Adria… We have to help her. There must be some way.”

“I’m sorry,” was all Nyx said, before the ghoul in front of them released an ear-splitting scream.

“Adria?!” Nathaniel said as the woman lunged at them.

She held no weapons, but intended to tear them apart anyway with no more than her bare hands. Nathaniel was so stunned he barely kept her from clawing at his face, catching her wrists in his palms and holding her back. Nyx was first to rush up and grab Adria by the waist, pulling her back and throwing her to the ground.

There was no hesitation in Nyx. Her every movement was smooth as she brought Stargazer down on the ghoul, piercing her chest with sickening sounds of squelches and crunches. Nathaniel looked like he was about to be sick as he backed away from the body.

“You… You didn’t even—!” he started to say.

“She was already dead,” Nyx said. “Listen to me, she was gone. Some ghouls are tortured—retaining just enough of their minds to know what vile things they’re doing. Adria was different. Her mind was clearly lost. The woman you knew wasn’t there. I know because my oldest friend was turned into a ghoul when the Blight began. Believe me when I say that I wish I could have done differently. But I know what it is like to act without certainty. I would rather make a tough decision than wait for a chance that will not come.”

Nathaniel hated it. Hated her. But he no longer argued. “Let’s just...finish the job. Then we’ll give her the pyre she deserves.”

Nyx nodded in agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to take a moment to point you all to [my new writing blog](https://theramblingscribe.tumblr.com/) on tumblr! I'm in the process of cross uploading Warden Reborn on there, and I'm gonna probably use it for any shorts or things that I decide to write in the future. So it's worth following if you want to keep updated.
> 
> I'd also like it to be a place where people can ask questions or just send comments or whatever! I know tumblr isn't the best for communicating with people, but it's at least better than Ao3 in that respect. So if you want to stop in and say hi, feel free!


	3. Taking Care of Business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey someone come to my house and kick my ass so I stop playing Fallout 4 and get back to writing. Oh also here's a new chapter lol

Of their group, not a one complained about the long time spent traveling. Anders and Demeter had spent enough time running to be used to it, though they weren't the best at assembling tents. Oghren and Cronus were veterans of the Fifth Blight, so the road with fewer darkspawn was a breeze for them. Nathaniel had made his way back from the Free Marches alone, so he was also well adjusted to the idea. Nyx wasn't even slightly in question.

The issue was really more to do with whether or not any of them could get along. Nathaniel would still occasionally throw a glare at Nyx, while Cronus seemed determined to keep up his assholish ways, and Oghren was being...Oghren. Anders was just a relentless flirt, but he laid off of Nyx. No reason to somehow anger the king by hitting on his wife. And the way she'd been with Stargazer, her massive sword, he didn't want to upset her, either.

Demeter had mixed feelings when they arrived in the city. They already had a few leads thanks to Cronus, so they were going to go ahead and get to work. Still, the city had templars, and lots of them. The queen herself might’ve been protecting Demeter and Anders and they might have had status as Wardens, but that wouldn't necessarily stop some of the more violent templars. She tied her hair into a large bun as they approached Amaranthine, just so no one could grab at it and pull her down. It wouldn't be the first time.

The guards at the gate were busy dealing with a number of refugees. There were still many who were trying to land somewhere new after the spread of the Blight, and this new chaos only added to that number.

Nyx had been trying to get land surveyed for safety in the southern regions of Ferelden before sending in people to rebuild proper. No use raising tainted cities that just made everyone who lived there sick. Problem was, it was difficult to safely say how long the diseased flesh and blood of a darkspawn could survive after the creature died and started to decompose. Making caution and patience necessary before sending inquiries to Marcher cities as to the number of refugees they received. As well as giving a need for lots and lots of fire.

Some, like those begging for entry to Amaranthine, hadn't even gone so far as to leave Ferelden. Be it national pride or a mere lack of coin, many just relocated to areas in the north. Denerim was similarly packed, making it all the more important to clean and fix all that had been destroyed in the war. The Alienage in particular saw massive renovations, as a number of elves came storming in.

So the city was overcrowded, especially with a new threat forcing people to leave their farms, and many couldn’t even get in. Nyx was even stopped at the gate, though not for the reason she suspected.

“Bag inspection,” the guard said. He looked a little nervous, staring down the group of clearly skilled fighters. “Please, um, we’ve had many cases of smuggling.”

“I’ve nothing to hide,” Nyx said calmly, preparing to turn over her belongings. However, the captain of the guard strode up behind his subordinate.

“Don’t you recognize who this is, man? She is Commander of the Grey, not to mention our queen,” the captain barked. “You shouldn’t be accusing the Commander of smuggling. Show some respect!”

“I-I’m sorry sir, I didn’t—!”

“It’s no bother,” Nyx said quickly. “He was doing his job, which is commendable. I would, however, like to hear more about these smugglers. If there is anything I might do to help, please, tell me.”

“I am humbled, Commander. There has been a man soliciting help from newcomers just outside the gates. If any of your number come across him, find out what you can, root out the problem, and report back to me,” the captain said.

Nyx nodded. “I promise I will let you know what we find.”

They were only a few paces further into the city when a woman stopped them. “You’re the Commander, aren’t you?”

“Is she? Maybe she just has one of those faces,” Cronus joked, rolling his eyes. “Yes, yes, you’ve a letter from Ser Wolf of Rivain and we should meet with him. Now shoo!”

“I-I...how did…?”

Nyx sighed. “You have a letter for me?”

The woman handed it over, but didn’t remove her eyes from Cronus. She was a little pale.

“Don’t worry about him,” Nyx whispered. “He’s harmless.”

The woman nodded, but did hustle into a powerwalk to make her escape.

Cronus snickered as she scurried off. “Look at her go. She’s a quick little thing, isn’t she?”

“Try not to frighten or antagonize everyone we come across,” Nyx scolded. She examined the letter, and quickly put two and two together. “This is from the Dark Wolf, isn’t it?”

“Indeed,” Cronus said.

They’d already discussed a number of the issues Nyx’s advisors had brought to her attention. One of which was a plot to kill her. It seemed like a poor plan, considering she not only had loads of protection, but was a skilled warrior herself. Not to mention, she wasn’t just Commander of the Grey and temporary “arl” of Amaranthine, but the queen. Assassinating a Grey Warden was one thing. Assassinating the king’s beloved was something of a death wish.

But Nyx had her other secret weapon: Cronus and his splintered mind. He already mentioned that while the Dark Wolf would charge a hefty fee, it was nothing she couldn’t handle and worth the expedient handling of the matter. Nyx had only wanted to know the way to best avoid requiring any executions or fighting, and it seemed this was also the way to do that. It only figured that “Ser Wolf” would have heard of her interest in seeking his aid.

Cronus had given other advice, as well, and hummed as they walked along, handling all sorts of business as they went. He plucked bottles of potent poisons from places where children were likely to reach, whispered things to merchants to get the best deals, and pointed everyone in the right direction. With his help, it seemed that everything would go smoothly and without issues of any kind.

There was just one concern. “Why _did_ you decide to help me?” Nyx asked.

“I suppose you know me too well to believe ‘out of the kindness of my heart’ as a legitimate answer,” Cronus mused. “And you won’t let it rest at ‘I have my reasons,’ either.”

“No, I won’t,” Nyx confirmed.

Cronus shrugged. “There is only so much I can do to kill time while I wait for the day I go off to find her,” he admitted. “Something has to fill the time. Besides, are you really going to look this gift mage in the mouth?”

Nyx wore a questioning look. “Surely that can't be all there is to it, though.”

“It isn't. Im testing things,” Cronus said. “Certain things can be done with or without my interference, but others—regardless of the timeline— _must_ occur. But what happens if I know about it, and stop it before it does? What then?”

“You think there could be some larger consequence?” Nyx asked.

“Blood magic attracts demons. Your magic would have cost a life. Magic doesn't do freebies. These visions are already altering me. But what if I use them to alter the rest of the world?”

“You're actually trying to invite some larger cost to...to hurt you?”

“Maybe not me. I want to know what I'm risking, in case I ever want to try making a real difference. It's safest to try it here, where most of these decisions make little difference,” Cronus said.

Nyx felt a little insulted at that insinuation. Her choices had to matter. The guard needed help. The plot against the Wardens had to be stopped. The Warden who went missing could not be found without someone there to look. This was all very important, but Cronus made it sound more like a game.

And like she was insignificant. Which brought her back to an old question she’d asked hundreds of times:

“I wasn’t here last time, but surely the Wardens called on someone for help,” Nyx said.

“Yeah, you’ll meet him,” Cronus said, waving his hand dismissively. “He’s on his way to Vigil’s Keep as we speak.”

Nyx could have asked several more questions that his statements raised, but elected to just keep moving. If Cronus had wanted to offer a straight answer, he would have. But he didn’t, so pressing the issue was pointless.

Nathaniel decided he wanted to find better armor, given the state of the stuff he’d worn while infiltrating the Keep. Nyx let him go his own way with a promise that he’d meet with them later to work on the smuggler problem together. They did linger with him a minute, looking over shiny weapons and armor, none of which had yet been tested in the heat of a battle.

There were even a few mage wares for Anders and Demeter, which did always perplex Nyx. She supposed some mages were not kept in the tower for official reasons. She remembered a few healing mages who could be summoned when she or Fergus got sick (though in contrast, she remembered Marethari looking after her or Tamlen when she was with the clan). Still, she most of the profit from robes or cowls made for mages to wear and use had to be mostly seen from the pockets of apostates.

Demeter confirmed as much. “We had our contacts in various areas of Ferelden. Can’t really survive alone as an apostate. You’d be stupid to try.” She made a face as she turned her eyes to glance at Anders.

“What? I didn’t leave without you, in the end,” he insisted.

“Six other times you did. So don’t try it again,” Demeter said.

“I promise I won’t leave you behind again,” Anders said, rolling his eyes. “Not that I can. My life is sworn to the Wardens now, isn’t that right Nyx?”

Nyx blinked, but nodded. “Um, yes.”

So was her life, technically speaking, and Alistair’s, but they were also sworn to take care of the entirety of Ferelden, so they got a bit of a pass on that one at some point. In Cronus’ case, she doubted anyone could actually tie him down and control him. Anders and Demeter had to stay to protect their lives. There shouldn’t have been ambiguity there, but Nyx caught a knowing smile on Cronus’ face that told her that wasn’t so.

“Speaking of, we should really get to work on looking for Kristoff,” Nyx said, not just to change the subject—though that had been some of the motivation for bringing it up then. “And our Dark Wolf will want an answer. He’s apparently waiting by the far gate, just past the markets.”

“Well, what are we waiting for then?” Cronus said.

They stopped briefly on the way to talk to representatives of the Merchant’s Guild and sign up for jobs with them, but didn’t linger for too long. Cronus did at least promise that none of the jobs were terribly out of their way, and would be manageable. Especially considering their number.

The Dark Wolf stood near the gate in full armor, a helm concealing his face. He looked a bit shorter than Nyx had anticipated, almost closer to the height of an elf, but she didn’t think long on that.

“So you are the Hero I’ve heard so much about,” he said, voice muffled through the helmet. “It is an honor to meet you.”

“The Dark Wolf, I presume?” Nyx said.

“In the flesh. The less you know of me, the better, but that is the name I go by,” he said. “In the depths of the city, there is a murmuring. A murmuring that nobles want you dead. I’d like to help.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but I am curious what stake you have in this. How is my life of value to you?” Nyx asked.

“It isn’t you alone, though certainly there are many reasons to protect the good queen. My hopes, however, lay more in the strength of the Wardens. They may prove better rulers of this land than the late Arl Rendon Howe,” the Dark Wolf said.

Apparently leaving Nathaniel by the market stalls had been a good idea.

“His confederates are the conspirators,” the knight continued, “but to unearth their identities, I’ll need resources. Fifty sovereigns.”

Nyx looked to Cronus. It was a high price to ask, but she was here on her friend...her ally’s advisement. Cronus merely nodded at her, however.

“So this is out of a sense of civic duty?” Anders questioned.

“Corrupt, miserly nobles have beggared many a proud commoner. Some commoners turn to distasteful occupations just to survive. Is it not fitting they would want to strike back in the only way they’re able?”

Though still a bit hesitant due to the price of his services, Nyx could tell the Dark Wolf was true in his dedication. It was reassuring to know his loyalty was not the thing they were buying, only his skills. It meant that there would be no higher bidders to whom they’d be sold out.

“Fifty sovereigns then,” Nyx said, drawing out her coin purse. She counted the amount and placed it in a separate sack to hand to him. “Send word when you have news of any sort.”

He bowed slightly. “It will be done. Give me some time.” And with that, they parted ways.

Nyx wanted to go to the Chantry, as she remembered the many needs people might place on the Chanter’s Board. Anders and Demeter were less fond of that plan, and opted to stay behind and check out the tavern. It was where Kristoff had been staying, after all, and they needed to look into that. Nyx agreed, going with Oghren while quietly asking him to be on his best behavior.

“I will, I will! Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I know the drill,” Oghren grumbled, hustling along beside her.

“Cronus? Are you coming?” Nyx called back.

“I don’t particularly have warm fuzzy feelings towards the Chantry. I’ll make sure these two don’t get into any trouble,” he said.

The way he said it, there was indeed trouble to be found, so Nyx merely nodded and went on her way.

The Chanter’s Board had an even larger number of jobs than the Merchant’s Guild had listed. It included one to help a templar seek runaway mages. Nyx accepted it with a fake smile to the Chanter who was watching her. The plan was to get the information on their hideouts, then help them escape. Which made the fact that Anders and the others had stayed behind a bit of a relief, as they would hardly stay quiet if they thought Nyx would actually be doing the Chantry’s dirty work.

They checked in with the templar as they were meant to, quietly taking all the cases and assuring her that Nyx would “handle it.” They were all supposedly both apostates and powerful blood mages, but Nyx suspected that was not entirely true. Not every mage turned to blood magic.

“And what if it turns out these guys _are_ pricking their fingers for the extra edge?” Oghren challenged. “I might not have been with you for the mess in that tower, but I sure as shit heard plenty of stories about it from you lot. Don’t tell me we’d let demon summoning crazies run loose!”

“ _Shh,_ ” Nyx shushed him. “We’ll deal with it if it comes to that, but for now just assume they’re ordinary apostates. Like Anders or Demeter.”

“I’d hardly call those two ordinary,” Oghren grunted, but ended his complaints there.

Nyx actually had other plans when going to the Chantry that she’d not wanted to advertise. While she could not make direct changes to the way the Revered Mothers handled their business, she had encouraged more charitable acts in aid to the elves. Denerim’s Chantry, which was a little more under their influence as it was in the same city as the crown, had already offered shelter to homeless elves on cold nights and been better about spending tithes on gathering food instead of polishing Andraste’s golden sword.

Here, however, they were outside of Nyx and Alistair’s word enough that they hadn’t even done the bare minimum. Nyx made a note to herself to visit later on more official business, though for the time being she simply made a donation and asked that it go towards the Amaranthine Alienage. The sister who received it from her looked rather bewildered by the request, and stumbled over some explanations that she could not personally dictate where the money went.

“And why not?” Oghren said.

Nyx put a hand out to calm him. “Just let the Revered Mother know of this request. I will return later to speak with her personally. You can inform her of that, as well.”

The sister nodded, hurrying away before too long.

Nyx stopped to talk with a woman who was weeping through loud prayers to the Maker, but Oghren was growing very antsy, so they didn’t stay long after that. They stepped outside again and prepared to head towards the tavern, when a voice called their names.

“Nyx? Oghren?”

Nyx turned her head to spot the familiar warm eyes and wrinkled smile of Wynne. She hurried towards her old friend and without even stopping to think, Nyx threw her arms around her. She was gentle enough that the heavy armor she wore wouldn’t hurt Wynne, who just laughed and returned the hug.

“Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting this when I woke up this morning!” Wynne said. She smoothed down Nyx’s hair, which was still a bit wild and untamable, even now. “You look well. I’d heard the new Commander was going to be our Hero, but I wasn’t sure when you’d be around in Amaranthine to look for you.”

Nyx could almost cry from the burst of nostalgia in her chest. “You should have let us know you’d be around! I would have been certain to come.”

Oghren cleared his throat. “Have I been turned invisible? Or is it just cause I’m not tall enough to reach your eyes?”

Wynne chuckled. “Hello to you, too, Oghren. I’m glad to see you. Both of you.”

“Cronus is around, too,” Nyx said.

Wynne made a bit of a face at that. “I’m sure he won’t mind missing me. With that power of his, he must already know that I’m here.”

“What _are_ you doing in Amaranthine, if you don’t mind my asking?” Nyx said.

“Actually I’m on my way to Cumberland. The Circle of Magi is convening there and I must attend. Shale was understandably put out, but decided she could manage on her own. I’m just hoping this all blows over before it’s begun.”

“Is something happening among the mages?”

“I don’t want to trouble you with this,” Wynne said, shaking her head. “Not with rumors of darkspawn rising up again.”

“Wynne, I’ve more than just the Grey Wardens to care for. It’s best that I know all that I can,” Nyx insisted.

“Very well. Perhaps you should know that something stirs within the fraternities. The Libertarians wish to pull away _entirely_ from the Chantry. And if they get enough support…” Wynne paused, looking downward. “It could turn out to be nothing. But keep your ear to the ground, anyway. The freedoms you’ve granted Ferelden mages are already starting some chatter. It could have some serious repercussions.”

Nyx nodded solemnly. She’d wanted to help people, to prevent such desperation that would turn mages to the kind of thing Ulrich had started. But she never claimed to know enough about mages or templars to really have a lasting effect on things.

Were he less biased, Nyx might have sought Cronus’ advice on these matters, as well. He would likely try to see all the Circles destroyed and disbanded overnight, which would cause mass hysteria and chaos. The current system was broken, but dismantling it without a replacement at the ready would be dangerous.

“I wish you luck then,” Nyx said. “And thank you for letting me know about this.”

“Of course. I’d love to stay and catch up, but I’ve a lot to prepare before I leave for Nevarra, yet. Actually, if you could assist me with something, I would be grateful,” Wynne said.

“Anything. Just say the word.”

Wynne smiled, her eyes soft and fond. “A friend of mine and a colleague is in the area. Ines. She’s a Botanist and apparently needs some plant or other for some work she’s doing. I need you to convince her to make her way to Cumberland to join us. Her voice will surely be important to the discussions, but she’s so stubborn about her projects… Just let her know that she’s needed.”

“Where can I find her?” Nyx asked.

“The Wending Wood. Do take care, as she’ll likely go towards areas where the Veil has thinned. Makes herbs more potent, or so she claims,” Wynne said.

“That means demons. I’m no idiot!” Oghren grunted. “Darkspawn I can handle, but leave damned demons out of it!”

Nyx sighed. “We’ll do what we can.”

Oghren crossed his arms in a huff.

“Thank you. Both of you,” Wynne said as sweet as she could. “Oh, and Oghren, the house ale at The Crown and Lion is an Antivan brew. Quite a rich flavor with a lovely oaken color. If I had more time I’d buy you a glass.”

Oghren softened, ever predictable. “Let’s just call this an I.O.U. then, eh?”

Wynne agreed. She hugged Nyx one last time as she said goodbye and went on her way. Nyx prayed silently that this was not the last time she would see her, but knew their paths were unlikely to cross again without a plan being made. If nothing else, Nyx simply wished her well.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

“Is that…?” Demeter started to say, just before Anders bolted past her.

“Namaya! You’re still here!” Anders said.

“Yeah, I am. About time you showed up,” Namaya said. “I for one keep my promises.”

Cronus stood back, watching the exchange in silence. Demeter noticed the sudden way he changed, eyes glossing over and arms crossed. She’d seen him do this a few times before, in fact, when speaking with Nyx and giving her advice. It seemed a habit when he was deep in thought, to Demeter.

“So did you find anything?” Demeter asked.

“Turns out you were right. They’re here, both of yours. The cache is in a building in Amaranthine,” Namaya said.

“You found them?” Anders said with wonder in his eyes and a smile on his lips.

“I did. Now my piece in this is done. I don’t want any more business with mages,” Namaya said darkly, then looked over to Demeter. “So don’t go fluttering your lashes trying to get me involved. You’re not worth the trouble.”

Demeter narrowed her eyes. “Don’t worry, you weren’t the best lay, either.”

Namaya grunted in frustration and stormed away. Anders ignored this completely, too filled with glee to care a whit about her.

“The phylacteries are _here,_ Demi? What are the odds?!” Anders whispered. “We can be done with templars for good.”

“No, you can’t,” Cronus said, finally returning to the present moment. “Not yet anyhow.”

“What do you mean? The building is just there, by the market!” Anders said, a twinge of anger in his excitement.

Demeter looked between the two, catching on faster than Anders. “It’s a trap, isn’t it?”

Cronus nodded slowly. Of course. For it to have been that easy, they would have needed the blessing of Andraste herself. It could never be that simple. Not even with the Grey Wardens protecting them were they free of templars.

“So what do we do?” Demeter asked.

“How do you even know it’s a trap?” Anders demanded.

“The convenience, for one. Two, both of your phylacteries in the same place? Still here after the Blight? Rest assured, they will be destroyed someday soon. They’ll be together with mine, and I’m likely to see it in my heart to help the two of you out when I need to prevent people from finding me again. But today, you wander in there, you’re likely to get a new piercing that doesn’t look as nice as the one in your ear,” Cronus said. “Mind you, I’m still tempted to take you there. I’d just like to have Nyx and her giant sword with us, first. Makes killing the templar shits a little easier.”

Anders and Demeter stared for a moment.

“How do you…?” Demeter started, but her voice trailed off. “Why do you know about things before they happen? I’ve overheard you speaking with the Commander a few times now, and you always say things like they’re certain.”

“Only some things are certain,” Cronus said. He didn’t actually bother with answering her question. “Point is, we should wait a few more moments for the aforementioned fearless Commander, her handy dwarven sidekick, and the brooding one with the bow. Unless you really want templar abilities to make you woozy and sick before being captured and subsequently hanged.”

“I like my neck without rope around it, thanks,” Anders said.

Demeter just kept watching Cronus. “Fine. But as soon as she gets back, we’re going to look for the phylacteries. And if you’re right… If you’re right you’d best be prepared to explain yourself!” she said, jabbing a finger in Cronus’ face.

He didn’t even flinch.


	4. Out of Sync

Demeter admitted to herself that she wasn’t at all surprised by that outcome. Cronus had been correct, not only in pointing out that it was just too easy, but in everything he’d said. The templar from the Keep had been there with backup, but Nyx hadn’t even hesitated to cut her down when it came to it.

 _“You two are my friends now, and I wouldn’t let someone hurt you.”_ That was what Nyx had said. Demeter was a bit in awe that they were considered so important so quickly. Anders was even more so, having had few friends even when surrounded by his peers. Demeter wasn’t certain that it was true, but she suspected only herself and Karl were actually close to him at all. And now one of them was far away.

Demeter was relieved that Nyx had decided they all deserved a break in the tavern, after that. Oghren was happy to imbibe in the house ale. Others were surprised at how hungry they were, after losing track of time. They would be staying the night in the city, it seemed, though Nyx had plans for their evening.

“The smugglers will be more active under cover of darkness. That’s when we’ll find them sneaking around to follow them back to the hideout,” Nyx said. “Which means we snuff out the whole operation by sunup.”

Anders groaned. “I know being a Grey Warden gives us super strength or something like that, but we do still need rest.”

Oghren snorted. “Just wait until you need to try taking a nap in the Deep Roads. Then you complain to us about lack of sleep.”

“I know it’s difficult, but Oghren has a point. We’re here to do good for Ferelden. It’s worth a few sleepless nights,” Nyx said. “Besides, it’s Grey Warden stamina we’re famous for, not super strength. Which will be helpful, given the situation.”

“Can’t we at least take a cat nap before we go?” Anders moaned.

“I got the key to Kristoff’s room,” Cronus announced, walking up to the table. “So as long as you don’t mind sleeping in what may be a dead man’s bed, knock yourself out.”

“He wasn’t dead when he was _in it,_ and that’s what matters,” Anders said, snatching up the key that Cronus dangled in front of him.

Nathaniel walked up, prompting Nyx to ask if he’d gotten any information from the barmaid. “Apparently Kristoff was a nice person, though that doesn’t particularly help us. Last time she saw him was a week ago, when he was trailing a group of darkspawn outside the city. The way she told it, they seemed to be setting a trap for any Grey Wardens who thought to pursue them.” He sighed, a pitying look in his eyes as he glanced back at the young woman. “She thinks he hasn’t returned because he defeated them, but I’m not so sure.”

Nyx shook her head. “He’s a Warden. He would have reported to us.”

Nathaniel nodded. He had suspected as much.

“Only thing left to do is see what he left behind,” Nyx said. She held out her hand, waiting for Anders to drop the key into her palm. He moped about it for a moment, but relented.

Nyx took only Cronus up the stairs with her, not wanting to make any sort of scene. Perseus was still at her heel, as always, but in Ferelden people didn’t think twice about a person with a mabari beside them. She unlocked the door and stepped inside, only to see a fairly tidy and normal living space.

The bed was made, though not perfectly. An empty cup and stray plate were on the table, with a few crumbs left, though nothing else. A fly did seem interested in a bit of dried up jam, but it wasn’t making much headway. There were some notes by the table, mostly remarking on the behavior of the darkspawn that Kristoff had been tracking. _Capable of speech?_ was at the very top.

More interesting were the notes put up on the wall, covering a map of the hold of Amaranthine. There were numerous X’s marking places that the darkspawn were not interested in. Then there was one circle, over an area labeled The Blackmarsh. The rest of the notes indicated that Kristoff had indeed planned on going there.

“Tell me honestly,” Nyx said, turning to Cronus. “Do we have any chance of finding him alive?”

“No,” Cronus said, “but there will be someone there you need to meet.”

Nyx hated to hear that, but knew there was no changing matters. Kristoff had been a Grey Warden, and he had known from the moment he took the Joining that he would give his life for the order. They would mourn his passing, but other matters would be the priority.

“The others might think we should go looking for him first,” Nyx said. “They don’t know he hasn’t got a chance.”

“Oh, some of them have reached that conclusion already. But you’re right. Some of the idealists might think it’s wrong not to go after the more immediate danger,” Cronus said.

Nyx would have to justify it. The other two issues that stood out at the moment were a murder in the forests and a chasm leading to the Deep Roads. The second of which Cronus had already shared held not just one, but four broodmothers, who were creating a new kind of darkspawn that was even more deadly and monstrous than the usual hurlocks and genlocks.

An argument could be made to prioritize any of them, but Nyx wanted the broodmothers dead first. With Kristoff already doomed and merchants spreading the word to take different paths, one danger stood slightly above the rest.

“They’ll follow you,” Cronus said. “You’re our brave Commander, after all.”

She knew that much. What Nyx didn’t want were arguments over her orders, when a fellow Warden was out there “possibly alive” and in need of help. Especially with Nathaniel still being so tense and Oghren being...outspoken. She decided to leave it at that, for the moment. They’d deal with it after the smugglers were dead.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

The city guard had been correct in assuming the base would be protected, and that there was a key on the smuggler that stood watch outside. Cronus plucked the key from his body and held it up for the others to see.

“Let’s get moving, then,” Nyx said.

They fell single file into the entrance, keeping quiet as they could while sneaking through the condensed hallways. It appeared to be an abandoned docking station for small ships that came through the mouth of a cave. It was dark and reeked of saltwater and rat corpses. This wasn’t precisely a high class operation, but the smugglers were trouble regardless, so they would be dealt with.

A group of them were huddled around a boat, apparently a new arrival with goods they could overcharge for. Nyx took one of Nathaniel’s arrows, tying a smoke bomb to it, then had him fire it into the middle of the group. Her plan worked as needed, leaving the smugglers confused and coughing while her allies rushed in.

It seemed like an easy enough job, with that, but proved a little more difficult as they went.

Backup for the smugglers arrived in no time flat, which had Nyx and the others reeling, trying not to get caught off guard from enemies that attempted to flank them. Nyx had to contain the arcs of her swings in the close quarters, as Oghren was fairly close by. Cronus, thankfully, was still artful as ever with his blade, and remembered how to predict the movements of the two he’d fought with before.

Perseus, of course, fought at Nyx’s side. He was trained well-enough that he could adapt to any circumstance.

The other three were a range of decent experience to almost none. Nathaniel had formal training as an archer, so his hits landed flawlessly, but Nyx was not the same as an army commander. She was used to allies that made their own decisions, while still able to work together.

Nathaniel hesitated a lot of the time, waiting for some order or signal to fire. Only when he realized that none were coming did he start to take the initiative and send his arrows flying into the fray.

Demeter and Anders worked decently as a pair, having been in a fair number of encounters with templars now to hold their own. But it was clear they weren’t used to the chaos of this larger group, struggling to cast spells without hurting the others from the explosion of a fireball or a spray of lightning. They kept their actions contained, while Anders focused more on healing the others or defending them.

That wasn’t to say they made it through the night without a few mistakes. Demeter did scorch Oghren’s rear once, which resulted in very loud dwarven curses. Nathaniel nearly missed Cronus’ arm at one point, not knowing how to predict the movements in his particular style of fighting. Anders aimed a glyph to stun one of the enemies, but without noting that Nyx was also heading that direction. She was frozen for a moment before Anders pulled back the effect of the spell.

When Oghren’s axe at last fell on the smuggler leader’s face, he grunted with frustration. “Okay, which of you mages tried to serve me to them well done?!”

“Oh I wish that I could take the credit for that,” Cronus sighed. “Alas.”

Nyx shook her head. “Who was responsible doesn’t matter. What does is that we clearly aren’t prepared for the dangers ahead of us. Unless we can work as a unit—”

“ _Commander,_ ” Nathaniel began, with a seething edge to his words, “how can we work together if we aren’t given proper orders?”

“The Grey Wardens aren’t an army,” Nyx said. “While I might give commands, I expect you to all be able to make decisions on your own, as well. I can’t stand back and tell you what needs doing, because I will be up close and fighting for myself. You don’t need my orders. _We_ all need training. Until we can work together without nearly roasting Oghren.”

Oghren grunted again, though this time in approval.

“It will have to wait,” Cronus said. “Until we return to the Keep, we’ll need to manage without it.”

Nyx agreed, though she didn’t really like it. She knew what she would need to do, in order to command more like an army leader, but she wasn’t quite comfortable with it. Artemis’ bow had been returned to her family, as something to remember her by, and Nyx had not wielded one since the battle with the Archdemon. But if she needed to be able to switch between fighting up close and at a distance at a moment’s notice, she would need one of her own.

A shortbow, she decided. She could stay close to the action that way, and pack more of a punch. Nyx would go to the markets in the morning, and see what she could find.

Cronus was watching her, following her train of thought to see the outcome in the future. “It will need a good name.”

That was something Nyx would sleep on.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

Moonlight was a fine bow. It had a pale finish to it, appropriate for the name Nyx decided on. It also cost a small fortune, but it was worth the sovereigns so that she might be prepared for anything, regardless of what they encountered. Thankfully, they’d not even needed to leave the tavern to find it, as the bartender had a collection of bows he was selling. Apparently he was married to an elf, who was an excellent craftsman.

They were all ready to set out, and so they did, heading back towards the front gate. Today they were supposed to meet with the two men who had found the Deep Roads entrance. Others pointed the way to Micah and Colbert, the two unlucky hunters who had a run-in with darkspawn. Or rather, incredibly lucky, as they lived to tell the tale.

“What are you looking at?” Colbert demanded upon their approach. “You looking to start something?”

“Not at all. You’re Colbert, aren’t you? The hunter who found that entrance to the Deep Roads?” Nyx said.

“Here to investigate the chasm, are you? About time someone did,” Colbert said. “I can’t take all the credit for finding the rift, you know. Micah here fell in first.”

Micah, the elf next to him, grunted affirmatively (as well as in annoyance).

“What happened, exactly?” Nyx asked.

“It’s quite a ways out of town. We were tracking a buck off in that direction, you see…before this darkspawn mess. We’d been on his tail for about a week at that point. I’d wager he thought it was great fun, leading us on a merry chase as he did.”

“And the chasm?” Cronus said, unamused.

“Oh, the chasm! Yes, er… We saw it coming over a rise. It really was something to behold, a huge cleft, as though the Maker Himself had cracked the earth in two, like...like an egg. It looked like someone had tried to build over it, but it must have been abandoned a long time ago. No one in town knew about it. Well, of course we _had_ to investigate! That was when Micah fell in. A shriek like you wouldn’t believe, and he was gone.”

“Earth crumbled,” Micah said simply. “Not stable.”

“Right, and as Micah lay there yelling about his knee or his head or what have you, the darkspawn appeared,” Colbert continued.

“How many?” Nyx asked.

Colbert shrugged. “More than a brood and less than a horde? They seemed...occupied, like they had some place really important they had to be. Didn’t notice us at all. Thank the Maker.”

“The darkspawn were so occupied as to overlook two screaming, injured men? Boggles the mind,” Anders said, shaking his head.

“I marked the chasm on my map so we could avoid it, but it sounds like you want to know where it is, so here you go,” Colbert said, gesturing to his map.

Nyx produced her own and copied the mark, making a note above it: “chasm.”

Colbert cleared his throat. “So…are we getting anything for our trouble?”

Their clothes were shabby, they didn’t seem to have a place to stay other than their tent, and Nyx couldn’t imagine they weren’t at least a little traumatized from the experience. Not that they showed it much, but it could have been a front. Either way, Nyx’s heart was soft enough that she felt for the two hunters. She produced a sovereign from her coin purse, and placed it in Colbert’s palm.

“Thank you for your help. See that you take care of yourselves,” she said.

Cronus was rolling his eyes, just behind Nyx so she didn’t notice. Not that she would have been surprised by the action. “If we weren’t about to find a bunch of Deep Roads treasures,” he mumbled, hardly audible, “I’d see fit to remind you of the coin we need to repair the Keep.”

But Colbert was marveling at the shining gold piece. “A whole sovereign? If there’s ever a reason to fall into a darkspawn pit, here it is. Maker bless you.”

Nyx nodded at them with a gentle smile. She waved a goodbye and started back towards the roads. Nathaniel fell in step beside her.

“I want to thank you,” he said softly, as if embarrassed by what he was saying. Given their previous hostile meeting, that was not a poor guess. “Despite the darkspawn ravaging the land, you have not forgotten the needs of the people, as well. I would think a Grey Warden to be singularly focused, yet…”

Nyx was tempted to correct him. She wasn’t a Warden alone, but a queen and a hero, a person who was supposed to look out for the small in every way that she could. But even before duty alone, it was something she had wanted to do. To prolong life. Arguing that she did these things only as queen would probably detract from the honesty of the action. Still, she didn’t want to be given so much credit for doing that which was just.

“Any decent person would do the same,” Nyx said.

“Yes,” Nathaniel agreed simply, not speaking what they both knew. That he hadn’t even thought her decent, before.

Nyx would take any small change in his opinion that she could.

In any case, it was time to move on. She declared her intent to follow the lead to the Deep Roads first. It was the most pressing of what she knew was out there, and Cronus had agreed that interfering with enemy efforts there would be crucial and helpful to them, later on.

Anders wasn’t entirely pleased. “With a Grey Warden possibly in danger? All alone?”

Nyx looked to Cronus, biting her lip. This was exactly what she’d worried about.

“He is a Warden,” Nyx said, “and Kristoff knows his duty. He has already offered his life to the order, but people— _all_ people—are threatened by the rise of the darkspawn.”

The words felt a little hollow, and she dearly wished she could be honest. Would there ever be a day that she could stop lying and keeping secrets? But explaining Cronus’ ability, explaining how he got them, explaining her own history… It was a wound she never wanted reopened. Her dearest friends had looked at her so differently after they knew, and these were people who had barely met her. One of them was even still leaning towards loathing her.

It wasn’t a good choice. Nyx would argue it wasn’t even a choice at all. Oghren knew and Cronus knew. There was no reason for any of the others to find out. She just needed to tread carefully to be certain that no one caught on.

At least in this instance, Anders accepted her reasoning. Nathaniel even looked like he approved again, at her concern for people’s safety. Nyx felt a little guilty, since it was partially just an excuse, but the kernels of truth in it kept the feeling from overwhelming her.

“What’re we waiting for?” Oghren said, hefting his axe onto his shoulder in a call of action. “Let’s kick darkspawn arse!”

Nyx smiled. “Yes. Let’s.”


	5. Legionnaire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while to get up. I've had some busy days lately with work and regular life stuff and well... Mass Effect Andromeda. I figure that is at least relatable for other Bioware fans. But otherwise I'm gonna try to stick to the Thursday posting schedule.

Their greeting to the chasm was not unlike what Nyx had come to expect. Violence, violence, and more violence. There were some men situated not far from the chasm hanging an adulterer, that made the mistake of picking a fight with the group. No one was impressed by their actions. Taking justice into their own hands was hardly the right way to handle a cheat, no matter how horrible they were.

Nyx saw fit to cut the rope the dead man was swinging from, so he wouldn’t be stuck up there in dishonor and disgrace. Maybe honor was no good for him anymore, but it at least would have less pain for the family when they inevitably came looking for him.

Then there were droves and droves of deepstalkers, biting at their ankles and jumping at them to attack their arms. Anders shrieked a little in surprise, while Demeter whacked them off with her staff. She was glad to have at least been coherent enough in her panic not to fling fire at them, since she would have set Anders aflame in the attempt.

By the time those were done away with, their ears were greeted with shouting. Nyx hurried to find the source, seeing a dwarven woman in full armor being dragged away by her leg. An alpha hurlock had a grip on her ankle, but she kicked and squirmed until she managed to break free. The dwarf stood hastily, brandishing daggers that had most certainly seen recent use, and cut into her assailant's arm.

Without further hesitance, the Grey Wardens rushed to her aid. It was no easy fight, with a couple of shrieks lingering around besides the alpha and more hurlocks. Genlock archers held crossbows, though thankfully the more heavily armored among the group drew all the attention.

Cronus sent shocks of lightning into the enemies, letting it jump from one to the other and back again. The way they stilled with the electricity gave Nyx and Oghren good targets for beheadings. Darkspawn heads rolled, but the shrieks were a bit trickier.

Nathaniel managed to lodge an arrow deep into the shoulder of one of the noisy creatures, crippling that arm. As it mostly used those to make sweeping, scraping movements, it couldn't do as much damage as before. The dwarven woman took advantage of the creature’s handicap. She ducked to the side of its damaged limb and made swift but effective cuts that bled it weaker and weaker. It finally fell with the addition of another one of Nathaniel's arrows.

Demeter froze the other shriek in a thick ice, but her breath was increasingly heavy. Without time to rest between battles, she hadn't had the time to restore her mana or strength. Thankfully, she wasn't alone, as Stargazer was swung through the air to crash into the iced-over darkspawn. It shattered along with the magic, and died spectacularly. Nyx looked over to Demeter and rose a hand, an indication for her to stay back.

At which point, Nyx switched to using Moonlight, her shortbow. With almost effortless aim, she struck arrows into the heads of the two crossbow wielding genlocks. She exhaled slow as she marveled at it. It still came to her so easily. Nyx simply needed to trust her arm.

(It had helped to practice with the particular tension and build of the bow while out on the road. Still, Nyx was proud to feel that she was conquering a fear.)

The dwarven woman dusted off her mail and resheathed her daggers. “Well, that was...close. For a moment there I thought I was about to _really_ join the Legion of the Dead.”

“Are you alright?” Demeter asked, stepping up.

“I might’ve cracked a rib, but it’s hard to be sure. Everything hurts,” she said, a hand resting on the side of her abdomen.

“I could…” Anders started, but Cronus was already waving his hand.

“Woah,” the dwarven woman said with amazement. “Thanks. That must come in handy, huh?”

“You said you’re a part of the Legion?” Nyx said. Now that she was better, it was a good time to investigate.

“Yes, I am. You know about us? Not too common for anyone on the surface to keep an interest in what us dwarves are doing,” she said.

“Do you know a man by the name Kardol?” Nyx asked. “He’s...an old acquaintance. We helped him, and he repaid that in full.”

“Yeah, I know him! People are still talking about how he took the Legion topside to fight the Blight with the Grey Wardens.”

Cronus grinned. “He was handy with that axe, and clearly experienced at darkspawn extermination.”

The dwarven woman’s eyes widened a little. “Then...you’re…?”

Nyx nodded, trying to remain modest in her introduction. It was still hard, even after months to get used to this sort of thing. “Warden Commander Nyx Cousland, at your service.”

“Wow. I mean, I fight darkspawn every day, but never an Archdemon,” she said. Yet, as she spoke of the creatures, she remembered something, turning her head back towards the Deep Roads. “I wish I could stay and chat, but I should probably go back...foolish as that sounds. I need to see if there’s anything more I can do.”

“Is there a battle somewhere?” Nyx asked.

“Yes, at the old fortress of Kal’Hirol. There’s something going on there. I think the darkspawn are breeding an army. The Legion went to investigate, but Kal’Hirol proved too much for us. It was a massacre. And now I…” The dwarven woman lowered her head. Her voice became faint. “I’m the only one left.”

“I’m sorry,” Nyx said.

The dwarven woman didn’t respond to that.

“Well, we should get in there and kill those things, right? It’s what we’re here for!” Oghren declared.

“That’s what we thought,” the dwarven woman said, shaking her head. “Go in, eradicate the darkspawn, back in time for supper. Well...whoops.” She sighed. “The darkspawn have changed; they’re smart now. They destroyed the Legion. I saw them taking some of the women and I wasn’t about to stick around for _that._ ”

Nyx squared her shoulders. “We’ll go with you, then. Together we can fight to avenge the Legion.”

This resulted in yet more surprise. “What? Really? Did I mention Kal’Hirol was a death trap? I know you’re Wardens but…”

Cronus shrugged, as if he was agreeing to go to a dingy tavern instead of waltzing back into the Deep Roads. “We were planning on heading in anyway.”

“Let’s not waste time, then,” the woman agreed. “Who knows what kinds of nonsense those darkspawn will be up to. You can call me Sigrun, by the way.”

They let Sigrun lead their group into the mouth of the caves, while she explained a bit of the history of the place. It had been a center of learning for the smith caste, back at the height of the dwarven empire. Plenty of weaponry was made there, and innovations to stonecraft were part of the dwarves’ work as well.

“When the fortress was lost,” Sigrun explained, “a lot of what the smiths had learned was lost with it. They’ve never built anything quite like Kal’Hirol since.”

Nyx vaguely remembered one of the dwarven brothers back at the keep going on about how pitiful human crafting was, particularly in regards to holding back the darkspawn. It was evident by the mere fact that so many sections of the Deep Roads still stood that dwarven crafts were superior, but Nyx could also see what Sigrun meant by looking around at the fortress they were approaching. It was sturdier, somehow, and formidable. For the darkspawn to have taken the place, it must have been sudden and overwhelming. That the monsters broke in at all was a terrifying thought to entertain.

They rounded a bend, only to find one of Sigrun’s comrades on his knees, attempting to drag himself out of the Deep Roads. He was bleeding badly, and the veins on his neck were already darkening. Nyx went cold at the signs of corruption on him, but followed Sigrun as she rushed forth nevertheless.

“It’s Juhka,” Sigrun told them, turning her head after a moment of examination. “He’s hurt. Bad.” She was staring at Cronus, remembering how he’d healed her before. The most they could do for this man, however, was ease the pain of dying.

Anders was the one to take pity on him, weaving a gentle wisp of healing magic.

“Th-thank you,” Juhka managed to say, though his vowels were emphasized by dramatic croaks. His voice was straining. “It’s...good to see you, Sigrun. I’m glad at least...one of us made it.”

“Be still, my friend, and try not to talk,” she said. Sigrun moved her hands to support his body the best that she could.

“I’m sorry we weren’t here sooner,” Nyx said, and meant it.

“No...it’s alright. I feel my death upon me, and it is a sweet release,” Juhka said. As ever, the Legionnaires were of a different mindset. Their whole life, once dedicated to the Legion, was death. To return to the Stone was what they were meant for, only attempting to take as many darkspawn with them as they could manage.

“You must listen,” he continued, though his voice weakened with every word. “The broodmothers. They are breeding, but it is not—” He coughed, shuddering and gasping to be able to finish what he was trying to say. “I saw an...an army. You must...you must… _stop_ them. Beware th-the Children. They are abominations, even among darkspawn.”

“The Children?” Sigrun repeated. “What are—”

But at his next attempt to speak, Juhka fell into another fit of coughing, far more violent than it had been previously. Within a minute he was sprawled on the floor, exhaling his last rasping breath.

Sigrun retracted her hands from his body as he went still.

“Ancestors look kindly on you, brother,” she whispered. She stood again, turning to Nyx and the rest of the group. “We have to finish what the Legion started. Those broodmothers need to be destroyed.”

She started to move towards the front of the fortress, but Cronus loudly cleared his throat, stopping her. Sigrun turned back to face him, impatiently groaning, “What?”

“You did mention something about a massacre by trying that last time, yes?” Cronus pointed out.

Sigrun sighed. “Yes. It was a disaster. The darkspawn were waiting and they managed to turn the thaig’s old defenses against us.”

“You mean they laid traps?” Demeter said.

“Golems,” Nyx murmured.

Apparently, loud enough that Sigrun still heard. “Exactly. Ancient dwarven ingenuity, used by the very monsters it was intended to kill.”

“There is an irony to that you just have to appreciate,” Cronus said. But at the look of hate he received, he rescinded the comment slightly. “I mean, minus the horrible consequences.”

“Your friend does raise a point though, Nyx,” Sigrun admitted. “We need to learn from the Legion’s mistake. Avoid the main door.”

Which was exactly the reason for Cronus to have brought it up in the first place. Nyx would rely on him to lead the way, for the time being.

“Is there another way in?” Nyx asked, looking between Sigrun and Cronus.

“Most of the old dwarven fortresses had hidden side entrances. I bet this one does, too. We just need to find it,” Sigrun answered.

“Lucky for you, I’m incredible at finding things,” Cronus said. He strolled along with hardly a care, until stopping short. “Oh, darkspawn. Almost forgot.”

Demeter was making a face, somewhere between confusion and horror. “You forgot about _darkspawn?_ ” she hissed out in a hushed tone. “You’re a bleeding Grey Warden!”

Nyx was concerned as well. Cronus went beyond just the general behavior of an asshole. He had new and unfamiliar quirks. His mind had been altered by magic, so perhaps it had twisted his personality, as well? The longer he remained splintered, the more chance there was that he would change. Nyx only hoped it wouldn’t harm him. Or...any of them.

Still, he pulled out his blade and started the fight by flinging a massive fireball into a group of lingering darkspawn. The beasts cried out in pain, before turning their attention on the group with vicious anger.

Nyx and Oghren charged in, though Nyx could have sworn she felt a third person following them closely. It wasn’t until she watched a genlock fall with a stripe of red across its neck that she realized Sigrun had been sneaking along with them, shadowing their steps. She was stealthy, that one.

The battles were difficult, Nyx would not deny that, but they felt as if they took no time at all. Her mind had been transported amidst all the action, back to her previous Deep Roads excursions. She remembered a lot of spiders, darkspawn, golems, and death. She remembered Oghren, but she also remembered things that hadn’t yet happened, with Ariane and Finn. She remembered almost dying, until Alistair came to her rescue, a bit behind schedule.

Nyx couldn’t count on anyone else coming for her, this time. But she had to emerge from these dark tunnels again no matter what difficulties they faced. She decided, as she swung Stargazer and removed the head from an alpha, that nothing would stop her from leaving that place alive.

It was such a difference from the hollow feeling she’d once had, that told her to give up and just let it end. There was something to appreciate, in that.

They rested for a moment, just outside what Nyx could only call a courtyard that spread out before a large staircase. There were strange pods that appeared just as blighted as everything else the darkspawn touched. But were they the eggs of giant spiders? Or something else entirely?

“The Legion got this far with no trouble,” Sigrun informed them. “We got careless, and complacent, and stormed the main entrance up those stairs.”

“Which is exactly when things went wrong,” Cronus said, as if he’d been there himself.

Sigrun’s eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Yes.”

“We’ll not do that, this time.”

Of course, Nyx was going to follow along with Cronus’ decisions and advice, but she threw a look of apology at Sigrun. He could at least be trying to put things more delicately. Sympathy would not bring them any harm.

But the darkspawn would. As Nyx stepped closer to the stairs, trying to examine the walls for the entrance that Cronus knew about, she realized that the pods were hatching. What emerged from them was nothing short of disturbing. They had human-like faces, with the proportions of an infant, but that was the only thing even remotely like people to them. Their bodies were bug-like; hard shells with crawly little legs. Eight on each side. They were creepy enough without the grotesque squelching sounds their hatching pods made as they crawled out from them.

They opened their mouths to emit small screams, like Shrieks made. They were darkspawn, that much was obvious, but they were unlike anything Nyx had seen before.

She looked to Cronus for answers, but he was focused on casting spells of protection.

“Careful,” he warned, “the Children are tough little fucks.”

That answered one of the questions that Juhka had left for them. These were the Children. An association like that might have turned a lesser woman off the idea of motherhood entirely.

If the battles before were tough, then this was _brutal._ Behind their infant-like mouths were rows of razor-sharp teeth, and much like babies they liked to chew. However, they also liked to tear and rip and bite, and they released a small amount of venom if they managed to break skin. There was a good reason for those who got close to the things to be in full metal armor.

Problem was, the Children were also incredibly fast. One got overly interested in Anders, and chased him all the way back to the archway they’d entered through. Demeter found her spells to be less powerful against these new darkspawn, her ice only holding it for a moment before it wriggled free.

After numerous attempts at doing something, anything to stop it from hurting her friend, Demeter cast a spell of paralysis on it. Nathaniel took the chance to launch an arrow from his bow, that cracked through the beast’s skull and killed it.

“My hero,” Anders said with relief, looking over at Nathaniel.

“What about me?” Demeter demanded.

“Talk later! Kill darkspawn now!” Oghren grunted.

Well, alright, the smelly one had a point.

They refocused on the other bug-like darkspawn and resumed their attack, doing all that they could to kill them. At the end, everyone, including the mages, were wildly out of breath. Nathaniel shook out his arms, tense from how much shooting he’d already done that day, then went about finding the unbroken arrows to add them back to his quiver. Anders crouched down to take another quick rest.

“What were those?” Anders wondered aloud.

“A new form of darkspawn, apparently,” Nathaniel answered. “It’s actually sort of fascinating. We know so little about them, and still more things are revealed to us, even now.”

“Yeah, real interesting that they find new ways to try and kill us,” Anders said.

“At least we know we can kill them right back,” Demeter said, offering her friend a hand.

He took it and stood back up, rolling his shoulders. He wanted no more of whatever those things were, but suspected that he’d not seen the last of them. Perhaps it was more realistic to just hope it didn’t get worse? The way things seemed to go around here, that wasn’t likely, either.

“Don’t worry,” Cronus said. “These darkspawn are products of the Mother. I doubt we’ll see them again, once this mess is sorted out.”

“The who?” Demeter asked.

Cronus didn’t answer. Instead, he whistled, strolling ahead of them once again. This time, he found a carving of a yelling dwarf that decorated many of the walls, and stuck a hand inside its mouth. He pushed up one of the teeth, and activated some kind of mechanism to reveal a hidden door. Once it finished rising, Cronus kept going, under the arches and over to a deep hole.

He gestured towards it like an invitation. Nyx took a deep breath. They’d found their way in. Now they just needed to find out how to stop whatever plot was at work, here.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

Ghosts played out scenes before the group’s eyes as they passed. They showed dwarves, terrified and alone, taking up arms to protect their homes. They had been the last hope of Kal’Hirol, and they were casteless. Everyone, save for a single Shaper that had remained behind in hopes of seeing the thaig live through the attack to record the day in the Memories.

They fought as bravely as warrior caste dwarves were expected to, and died because those same dwarves abandoned them. The Shaper left behind a stone tablet, with all the names of those who fought that day, in hopes that they would be remembered for their bravery.

When at last, the final ghost’s death was shown, Sigrun fell to her knees. She cradled the tablet in her hands. The horrors of the darkspawn were one thing, but to remember the cruelty of her people was another.

Nyx had noted the casteless mark on her cheek, but didn’t ask about it. Sigrun was a member of the Legion, and that gave her a higher mark of honor than those who had to beg just to live or turn to crime. It was a horrible system, and even King Bhelen had only started small efforts in improving it.

“We have to take this to the surface,” Sigrun decided, a hard note of determination in her. “Orzammar should mark these names in the Memories. For their passing. For the way they fought. They had hearts like a warrior caste. That is what they should be considered.”

Oghren shuffled awkwardly. He had fallen from his warrior caste position to leave and join Nyx. He knew well what Sigrun was feeling. In an odd, sober moment, he held out his arms to take the tablet. Sigrun raised a brow in question, but handed it to him anyway. Oghren moved the artifact to his pack, but only grumbled out something about “putting it in its place.”

Sigrun smiled, and stood again. “Sorry to delay you, Wardens,” she said.

“No need to apologize,” Nyx said. “This is important. Even if the dwarves aren’t my people, I understand their plight.”

“Human nobility?” Sigrun said, doubtful. “I...suppose sympathy has a power of its own.”

Nyx hung back, biting her lip and thinking of the Dalish. But she could say nothing, admit nothing, claim nothing. They moved on, planning to correct history and write it new as they went.

They soon came upon even larger groups of darkspawn, already grunting and growling and fighting something. While they went unnoticed, they tried to observe and see if there was someone in need of a rescue. Yet, the only things fighting back were more darkspawn.

Nyx blinked as if her eyesight had gone bad. She had never before seen darkspawn fighting amongst themselves. Was this a part of how they acted without an Archdemon to guide them? That didn’t seem quite right, from what she knew. To be fair, none of this had seemed right, from the moment they stepped into the Deep Roads. More oddities were just to be expected.

They pushed through. No reason to dwell when the answers likely laid ahead.

Some of the darkspawn did speak while they fought, grunting and growling about “the Mother” and “the Architect.” Nyx remembered hearing Cronus speak about a Mother, as well as a vague memory of that first talking darkspawn mentioning something similar. But these darkspawn gave no more clues, and were too bloodthirsty to give the Wardens a chance to interrogate them.

Nyx kept herself switching between blade and bow, when necessary to give commands. Already the others were improving in their cooperation and teamwork, but sometimes still required commands. Sigrun opted to really just to her own thing, which worked out as long as she wasn’t too close to Oghren, who often went into a haze of fury when he fought. He’d never intentionally hit anyone, but he wouldn’t be careful where he swung and not notice the stealthy dwarf slipping in and out of view.

The Children only became more fearsome, as well. Some of them had fed on the bodies of other darkspawn in order to grow full bodies. Those stood at about Nyx’s height. Tall for a dwarf, and short for most humans, but utterly terrifying no matter the size ratio.

Their faces also became redder and more twisted, still disturbingly similar to human babies, but closer to ones that had been loudly sobbing for hours without stopping. Comparatively, the small ones had such pale faces that they were closer in complexion to curdled milk than a living being. But no matter what, they were all unusually veiny.

Nyx was happy to stay further from them with her shortbow, but ended up helping Sigrun, Oghren, and Cronus when the situation got out of hand. The tall Children were incredibly powerful and vicious. She found herself wishing for a shield, so she might push the creatures off of her friends.

As they worked deeper into the chambers, echos of a something large and metallic sounded throughout the halls. The timing to them was like massive footfalls, but it was louder than the metal golems Nyx had encountered before. When at last they turned to view what had been making the ruckus, she understood why.

Two of the talking darkspawn stood, one clearly in command of the metal golem and the other being attacked by it. The golem itself was at least thrice the height of most golems, and the metal on it shone red and orange with heat. Small flames lifted from its body, in places, where the enchantments on it were strongest. Nyx could see flame runes carved into it, not only decorating it, but making it a giant figure of heat and flame and metal.

The golem slammed the enemy darkspawn down, one that wore a purple cloak around its shoulders, then took the creature in its fist and lifted it up. A second darkspawn—an emissary, judging by the staff in its palm—stepped forward with a victorious sneer. It was so disturbingly human in the way it behaved, now that it had an intelligent mind. How that was even possible was still a mystery.

“The Architect sends many, but he does not come himself! He is a coward!” the emissary declared. “I will kill you, and he will know that he failed to destroy the Lost. He will know that the Mother will tear him apart.”

The Lost? Was that simply what the darkspawn had chosen to call itself, or was that in reference to something else? Perhaps a codename for their plans? Regardless, Nyx would kill it, and stop whatever was going on, here. However she was able.

But at the emissary’s words, the golem shifted, taking the purple-cloaked darkspawn in two hands and ripping until it split into two. It was like ripping a pastry filled with raspberry jam, except the stuff that burst from the darkspawn’s middle would taste more like taint and blood than fruit. (In fact, it would taste nothing like fruit, if one was to attempt to put some on their tongue.)

It was then that the Wardens’ presence was known. The Lost growled in anger as its bloodshot eyes fixed on them.

“Who comes now? I can feel you, but you are not darkspawn. What trickery is he planning?” the creature said. “You will die, as all who serve the Architect will die! The Mother demands it!”

“Is that your new nickname?” Anders quipped, looking at Nyx.

She shook her head. It wasn’t the time for jokes. A darkspawn emissary was fearsome enough, but it had a massive, firey golem at its side as well. This would be no easy feat.

“Cronus, you remember how to conjure up a blizzard?” Nyx said, reaching for her bow.

“Of course, Commander,” Cronus said, smirking as he held out his blade. He called up the powers of ice, and a wind started to whip up around their two targets. Then there was a chill, then a small flurry, and within no time most of the place had iced over as snow fell swiftly from the conjured clouds.

“The rest of you,” Nyx said, looking back to the group while the enemy struggled to react to the spell, “focus your attacks on the darkspawn, there. We can take his control rod and put the golem to rest, but not until we defeat him. Mages, stick to any spells that could counter fire. If the golem gets close, see about destroying the pieces of it that have runes. It will weaken the flames, and hopefully weaken the golem as well.”

Everyone nodded, and swiftly got to work.

Cronus was the only mage to actually jump into the fray, given his abilities with a sword, though he still hovered slightly further from the actual targets. He iced over everyone’s weapons, including his own blade. Then, he waited, reserving mana to keep up the blizzard.

Anders kept a focus on healing so Demeter could focus on offensive magic. She did her best to follow instructions and keep up with ice spells, which was easy enough as she was fairly talented with them. Still, she watched Cronus with fascination. He was incredibly strong and with that blade of his, he didn’t have to linger on the sidelines.

Sigrun fell behind some of the waterfalls that circled the room. They were frigid and icy because of Cronus’ magic, but she managed not to shiver too badly as she moved. She reemerged to step into the emissary’s shadow, keeping at his back all the while.

Oghren did a good job of keeping him distracted from the front, so Sigrun was not targeted. Her lighter armor couldn’t take quite as many blows as his. The Lost was doing his best simply to move out of the way of Oghren’s swings, rather than countering them.

Oghren found his axe striking a barrier numerous times before he could even get close to hitting the Lost, which only pissed off the dwarf more. “Slippery little asshole!” Oghren shouted. “Wish there were a sodding templar around…”

It was a good thing Anders was too far away to hear that, or he might have raised a complaint at how strongly he disagreed with that sentiment. Which Demeter and Cronus would have readily backed.

But Nyx understood the sentiment of the complaint, and turned to Nathaniel. “You have a stash of poisons, yes?”

“Magebane?” Nathaniel said, following her train of thought.

Nyx nodded, and happily took a bottle that Nathaniel offered to her, coating a few arrows in the substance. It would sap mana from a mage and make them weaker. The emissary would be less capable in his spellcasting.

Nyx could see Demeter’s eye wander towards them curiously, then saw her flinch in recognition of the red-violet liquid. It had an unmistakable color, paired with a glittery sheen. It was luck that Nathaniel had any, as Nyx hadn’t thought to stock some. She only hoped it had been in preparation for a scenario such as this, rather than a suspicion of their mage allies.

Thoughts and questions like that would have to wait, however. The Lost was still casting, and the golem was starting to charge towards Oghren to protect its master. The flames on its body met with the ice and snow, and steam rose all around them.

Before Nyx could line up a clear shot, clouds of the steam engulfed the area, and obscured view of everything within it. Even the Lost started to cry out in confusion, casting hasty spells in an attempt to clear the fog.

Cronus saw this, and cut his blizzard short. This gave the golem more power, but with his winds still blowing, it cleared the field.

Nyx had her target in view yet again. Now all that was needed was for the emissary’s barrier to fall at the right moment.

Oghren struggled against the golem, drawn into a fight with it. His face was already flushed with alcohol, but the heat of fire made him redder, still. He pushed back with his axe, cursing loudly as he swung it, attempting to aim for one of the squiggly marks he thought must be a rune.

The contact first bent the metal, then a second concentrated blow made it crack. The mark had been glowing while active, and dimmed until the flames spurting from it died out entirely. It was still an orange color from the surrounding heat, but it produced no more flames of its own.

The golem was furious, slamming down a fist and making Oghren stumble. But Demeter was watching closely, and called up ice over the arm it had just been using. The golem lifted its now cold arm to its face, like it was examining it, then set a current of fire to the enchantment placed on the gauntlet, cracking and melting the ice in a burst of steam.

She had its attention, now. “Fuck,” she said, trying to move out of its way. In the round room, that was incredibly difficult, but she felt safer tucked behind one of the waterfalls.

It went to reach for her, but retracted its arm as if pained once it was met with the cold of the water. It wasn’t the most foolproof defense, but it worked, and that was all Demeter wanted.

Meanwhile, Sigrun was facing off against the Lost. Oghren’s distracting self had gone elsewhere, which meant she could no longer hide as effectively while still making her attacks. But she still managed to avoid any of the Lost’s attempts to retaliate against her. For a while, it was something of a stalemate; she dodged the emissary’s magic, and her daggers struck nothing but barriers.

Until, finally, she found the weakness in the emissary’s protection, and grinned. Sigrun drove her dagger into the weak point and watched as the barrier around the Lost shattered like shards of glass.

She didn’t even need to tell Nyx to be ready, as the Warden Commander had been watching the whole time, waiting for her opportunity. She let a magebane arrow fly. The Lost stumbled in alarm and confusion, having failed to anticipate an archer’s attack. Nathaniel set his own arrow loose, and even more magebane started to enter the emissary’s bloodstream.

Nyx managed to strike the emissary once more before it caught on and tried to block their attacks. But his barrier had even more weak points, this time, and they were so obvious it ended up just wasting more mana in his attempts at self-preservation.

The Lost called over the golem, then, gripping the control rod in one fist with its staff in the other. The golem charged at the archers, but Nyx stepped in front of Nathaniel and brandished her blade. Stargazer crashed against the golem’s arm and caused a fissure in the metal. She managed to break another rune, with that, causing that arm to cease its production of flames.

Oghren was back to work against the Lost, with Sigrun supporting him all the while. Together they cut him down, piece by piece, until at last the darkspawn collapsed.

A final swoop of the axe, and Oghren split the control rod.

For a moment, the golem just twitched and moved like it didn’t know what to do. After a few seconds of this, however, it fell to its knees. Its fire extinguished in one go, releasing another burst of steam into the air.

Cronus raised his weapon and sent a gust through the room to clear it.

“Well that was exciting,” he said, sheathing his blade. “Shall we squash some broodmothers, now?”

Nyx wasn’t sure what he meant by “squash,” but she kind of hoped it was less literal than it sounded. Those massive darkspawn would pop like pimples under enough weight, and that wasn’t a sight (or smell) that Nyx looked forward to. Though if they could simply get crushed, it would probably expedite the process of killing them. So she agreed.

“Lead the way,” Nyx said.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

Pimples were the perfect comparison. But that was done and there were no more tentacles sprouting from the ground with murderous intentions, so they were safe.

“We did it,” Sigrun breathed, with a hint of disbelief. “If the rest of the Legion were alive, I know...I know they would honor you in some way.”

“I’m sorry you lost so many of them,” Nyx said. She knew better than most what loss felt like.

Sigrun smiled sadly. “I used to wish I could get away from the others,” she admitted. “Now I’m all alone and I just want them back. Silly, isn’t it?”

Demeter shook her head. “I don’t think so. The Tower felt similar. I don’t miss the place itself, but not all the people were so bad.”

“And you got to take the best one with you,” Anders said with a grin.

“That sounds a bit different, but I guess you have a point,” Sigrun said. “Still, this whole thing has me worried. The darkspawn are by nature vicious, and they have always fought amongst each other. But for there to be two organized factions… This is something else.”

“It’s definitely not normal,” Nyx said, concern coloring her voice.

“Abnormal and darkspawn isn’t a comforting thought,” Nathaniel agreed.

“Good, it’s not just me then. Something has changed in the darkspawn, and I don’t think I like it,” Sigrun said.

“A reasonable reaction,” Cronus said.”

“Well, it’s something to ponder,” Sigrun said, waving off the somber thoughts. “Especially when you need to be reminded that impending doom is always right around the corner.”

“What will you do now? Are there other Legionnaires you should be looking for?” Nyx wondered aloud.

“Oh, I’ll probably just disappear into the bowels of the Deep Roads, never to be seen again. One good thing about this place is you never run out of darkspawn to fight,” Sigrun said.

“I would say that’s more of a bad thing, but I guess it pays to be optimistic,” Anders muttered.

“Perhaps you would consider coming back with us, then?” Nyx offered. “We need more Grey Wardens, especially with all we’ve discovered, today.”

“Well, I don’t know. That goes against my vow to disappear into the Deep Roads—unmourned and forgotten. But...is it even allowed? To be part of the Legion of the Dead and a Grey Warden?” Sigrun asked.

“You would be the first,” Nyx said.

“I suppose the job description is generally the same. I will follow you, then. You seem an all-right sort, and I’m better off with you at my back than alone,” Sigrun said. “Let’s go then. The darkspawn await!”

So did the people of Vigil’s Keep.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

The group was hardly two steps through the main gate before the guardswoman who stood at the entrance ran to them. Her eyes were wide as always, some fraying blonde hairs stuck to her cheeks.

“Welcome back, Commander!” she said, as if her own shouting startled her. “You took longer than expected. A guest arrived looking for you. He says he...well he wanted to meet you, ma’am!”

Nyx waved off the others, letting them go about their business. Sigrun’s Joining would have to wait, it seemed. Everyone but Cronus and Perseus dispersed, many of them looking to take a hot bath to scrub of the dirt and grime. The splintered mage was the only one to stay, because he already knew who awaited them.

“Take me to him,” Nyx said. When the guardswoman looked nervously to Cronus, wondering if she ought to try and dismiss him, Nyx caught her eye. She nodded slow and meaningfully at the guard, allowing Cronus to join them. He might have some important advice about this visitor.

They were lead into the halls of the Keep, and into the main dining area. Senechal Varel stood with an unfamiliar elven man, talking with him casually, but with a certain hushed intensity. When the guardswoman announced their presence, Varel and the elf turned to look at them. The guard then made herself scarce, probably to return to her post.

“Senechal Varel,” Nyx said, “who might this be?”

A Warden, obviously. She felt the taint even on their approach. It rose the hairs on her neck, worried that darkspawn had managed to invade again, but reason stood that it couldn’t be that. An invasion would mean countless darkspawn, violence, and unrest. This was just the faintest tingling in her skull. Nyx’s heart had almost hoped for Alistair on their approach, but knew that was not logical, either.

The elf strode towards them, giving Nyx the chance to notice the wolf at his heels. He swept into a bow, arms crossed over his chest.

“My name is Cadmus Andras,” he said. “I was sent to bolster your number, after the attack. It was...hasty. Were it not an emergency we would have sent word, but I was already planning to make my way here.”

“You’re Orlesian?” Nyx said, catching the accent. It was hard not to.

“Yes,” he said, only slightly hesitant. “As we explained many times to Warden Loghain—”

Cronus snorted. “You’ve met Loghain? My condolences.”

Cadmus blinked. “He is a fellow Warden now, regardless of what crimes he committed previously. And he has been a boon to the order, given his skill in strategizing. But that is not what I came to discuss.” He waved his hand in front of his face. “The men you lost the night of the attack...many of them were my _friends._ I intend to avenge them, and see that their loss was not for nothing. From what Varel has already begun to tell me, this will be no simple task.”

“We’ve more news, now,” Nyx said, “from the Deep Roads. I suppose I can fill the both of you in.”

“But not before a moment to rest,” Cronus insisted, taking Nyx by the arm.

She stared at him, her brow deeply furrowed. He simply returned the look with a knowing smile, and it settled Nyx back down. He wanted to tell her something.

“We’ve only just gotten back from a very difficult time in the Deep Roads, and we could use time for a meal and even a bath. Discussions can wait until the morning, Senechal,” Cronus continued.

“I am...inclined to agree, with my advisor,” Nyx said. Plus, a meal and a bath did sound nice. Maybe she’d even send Perseus out to get a decent wash. (He’d hate it, but given the smell he could use it.)

“Very well then, Commander. I’ll look for you in the main hall, come dawn,” Cadmus said. “With me, Sunburst.” The wolf at his side barked softly and followed close behind as Cadmus left the room.

He had to be Dalish, though Nyx wasn’t sure how he would have come to be with the Wardens. She thought she was the only one that had been recruited from the Dalish. Or...Hera was, now. But apparently there _were_ others. His vallaslin was some variant of Dirthamen’s, the alterations an indication of his clan. Of course, she wasn’t knowledgeable enough to note the exact clan, but they must have been centered in Orlais when he was with them.

The other less obvious hint of his origins was the wolf at his heel. Rangers were less common, nowadays, but the art had held in many a clan. Mostly anyone with ranger training simply went on to become halla tender for their clan. It made sense that Cadmus hadn’t followed this path, given his status as a Warden. Had his clan approved? Had it even been his choice?

Cronus pulled her along before she would spend too much time mulling over the details of the mysterious new arrival. Even though he couldn’t read minds, Nyx figured he could easily guess where her head was at. It always went that way, when it came to issues of race.

“He’s the one,” Cronus said.

Nyx made a face. “The _one?_ ”

Cronus rolled his eyes. “Not in that way. You know I’m spoken for, anyway.”

Right. He did still fidget with that ring of his.

“Then what do you mean?”

“You wanted to know who replaced you when you abandoned the Wardens for your quest for the Changeling. That’s him. He did a pretty good job, before, too. Loyal, smart, dedicated… I don’t blame you for thinking I could be in love with him, frankly,” Cronus said, wholly sardonic.

“So...what are you saying, exactly?” Nyx asked.

“You can trust him, and his judgment. But…” Cronus leaned his back against a wall. “I mentioned that he’s sharp.”

“Yes?”

“Be careful with him,” Cronus warned. “The others might brush off the odd comment about ‘understanding the plight of the dwarves’ or something of that sort, but he’ll notice. And unlike Wynne, he will demand answers, whether you want to give them or not.”

“I could say the same to you,” Nyx insisted. “Demeter and Anders already came to me with questions about your knowledge.”

“Ah, but that’s part of my tests. And I don’t mind if they know what’s up here,” Cronus said, tapping his head with his forefinger. “You _do_ mind if they know what’s in there.” This time, he gestured towards her chest, and her Dalish heart.

Nyx swallowed. “Still, please be a bit more subtle.”

Cronus nodded sharply and mimicked Cadmus’ formal bow, in a way that was obviously meant to mock the elven man. “Of course, Commander. Your wish is my...well, you know.”

Nyx shook her head and let him leave her. Perseus snorted with displeasure, and she wholeheartedly agreed.


	6. Family and Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting on time this week!

Ferelden both fit and did not fit the descriptions that Cadmus had heard. It was alarmingly brown, in places, but he didn’t find that it was like cow droppings. It was like a strong tree with beautiful bark. Sturdy. Proud. Tall. Why were shemlen so damn _tall?_

At least Nyx was closer to his height. Honestly, sometimes he mistook her wide eyes and delicate features for those of an elf. Her wild hair even would have covered longer ears, so it was an easy enough mistake to make. Yet, looking long enough, he could see the parts of her that were broader and more built. It wasn’t just from the sword she carried, either. Humans simply had different tendencies in how they grew. The differences, however slight, were there.

The Keep was also quite nice, despite mixed reviews from the Orlesian Wardens that had come to stay there before. Astrid had said it smelled of wet dog, and while that was true, it wasn’t a stench that a ranger was unused to. Falk went on at length about the plain walls and fixtures, and how it was all so dreadfully rustic. But he had been trained as a chevalier, before he decided he was a better fit for the Grey Wardens. Falk had liked his finery.

Pog, dearest Pog, had said it didn’t feel safe enough. Even Astrid and Falk had laughed at Pog for his worries. Unornate as the walls were, they were sturdy, tall, and stone. Besides, the darkspawn had been gone from the surface for months.

Cadmus knew they should have listened to Pog.

He didn’t ask about that night when the Commander first arrived and saved those left alive after the initial attacks. Not because he didn’t want to know—though perhaps truly, he didn’t—but because he’d not gotten the opportunity. Sigrun had completed her Joining, then the Warden Commander went over all the things they had learned at Kal’Hirol and in Amaranthine.

Talking darkspawn, darkspawn in factions… They were becoming intelligent, but how? So soon after a Blight had ended, too. The timing was strange, but Cadmus knew it would have been bizarre no matter the length of time between this and the Blight.

Right after catching him up to speed, Commander Nyx had taken everyone outside to start training. Cronus had taken the two other mages under his wing, so to speak, so they were off on their own. Their practice was far different from that of those with weapons.

They started out individually, focusing on their area of expertise. Sigrun, Cadmus learned, used a similar style of fighting to him. The two daggers she wielded were sturdy and dwarven, but her moves were those of stealth and grace.

Cadmus had the grace, but not so much the stealth. Plus, his daggers were curved slightly, a little more like hooks to drag and pull at enemies. Sunburst, his wolf, was whining to be at his side, since he left her out of the practice. She’d at least found a fast friend in Nyx’s hound, Perseus, a purebred mabari. They played together on the sides, though Sunburst would occasionally stop to mope.

Nathaniel was an archer, Oghren wielded a big axe, and Nyx was multi-talented. She had her heavy blade, named Stargazer as it apparently came from a piece of meteorite. She also had a shortbow, a newer addition so Cadmus had been told.

He watched her and Nathaniel shoot while he took a moment to stretch, studying the differences in their technique. Nathaniel went for long, calculated shots. His arrows hit with pinpoint precision and had massive amounts of power behind them, but he did take longer to release them.

Nyx was quick, though not hasty. She had brilliant aim, if slightly less so than Nathaniel as she didn’t take so much time. The arrows went quick and dug in deep. Cadmus didn’t envy whoever it was she might be imagining striking, given that fierce look in her eyes. And she normally looked so sweet!

She stopped her shooting, however, to return to Oghren. A lot of the training was apparently due to a need for stronger teamwork, so Nyx couldn’t focus on just one of them for the entire day. Cadmus decided that if the theme was to be working together, then he ought to help out his fellow Wardens as well.

“Sigrun,” he said, waltzing up. “Show me that jab of yours again?”

She eyed him for a second. “Sure,” she said. Then Sigrun demonstrated the move she’d been practicing.

“You’ve got a lot of power behind that,” Cadmus said, “but take care not to overextend the arm. It will be no good if you injure yourself in the midst of an attack. No darkspawn will take mercy or fight with honor.”

“Yeah, I was in the Legion. I know that,” she said.

He shook his head. “I meant no offense. Feel free to critique any problems you see in my style.”

Sigrun rose a brow, then sheathed her daggers and crossed her arms. “Alright, then. Let me see what you’ve got.”

Cadmus was happy to oblige. He brought out his daggers, then moved in flowing, sweeping motions as if attacking an invisible enemy. The motions started high, then went low, and finished with a slash across what might have been a man’s gut. _Distract, impair, and kill._

“Well, that sure looked nice. But you could probably make it faster if you kept the moves smaller. Try it more like this,” Sigrun said. Then she went on to mimic his steps, though she completed it far faster than he had.

“Show me again?” he asked.

Sigrun grinned, and agreed to help him master the motions.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

Demeter watched Cronus like a hawk throughout their entire practice.

He would ask them to perform certain spells, if they could, then critique the performance of each one. Anders showed a clear leaning towards spirit healing and defensive magic, with a decent grasp of elemental spells that he could attack well enough in a pinch. Demeter’s magic was a lot stronger when put towards offensive magics, though not going so far as to lean into spirit magic, which had more hexes and charms meant to debilitate an enemy.

The practice itself was standard enough for a trainer that was getting to know someone’s capabilities, but that was not what had Demeter almost glaring at him. She wanted to see _Cronus’_ magic. She wanted to know what he had up his mysterious sleeves. More to the point, she was curious about what was on his back: his sword. What mage performed spells and attacked with a blade?!

Certainly none from the Circle, though she did remember him and his friend Jowan running around and annoying the templars. (There were a couple of times that Anders had stared at the ruckus longingly, wishing to join, and Demeter had to drag him away practically by the collar to keep him out of trouble.) It had to be from his time with Nyx and the king, while they fought the Blight.

Maybe it was a Dalish Keeper? They had mysterious magic that Demeter had never been able to learn about outside of the mere concept of magic entwined with nature. Or maybe it had been among dwarves that Cronus picked up the skill, to see how those who lived without any magic were forced to fight.

Whoever it was who had taught it to him, she wanted to know. More importantly, what was with his ability to predict things that were about to happen, just in time for a warning? Nyx must have known from the very start what he was capable of. She even called him her _advisor_. Maybe he really did see the future. Was that possible? And was it something that Demeter could learn?

It would help with keeping Anders out of any more trouble. If she could see, like Cronus claimed to be able to, where their phylacteries were hidden, Demeter herself could destroy them and keep the two (or three, if she felt like helping out Cronus as well) of them away from templars forever. If Anders tried to do something risky, she’d also know that ahead of time to be able to stop him.

Then, aside from that, aside from all of that stuff about magic and mysteries...there was Cronus’ personality.

Demeter couldn’t stop cringing as he went on and on about healing magic. What should have been a lovely topic turned into a grotesque description of the way creation spells run through the human anatomy and stitch what has been torn. The worst part was how he spoke about healing going _wrong._

“At the very base of healing is this idea of mending and stitching, correct? Knitting back together that which has been broken, torn, or unnaturally altered. Done wrong, you can make a person bleed more, instead of calming the blood flow. Make a bone grow back malformed and misshapen. Or instead of a small jolt to increase a heartrate when someone is in dire straights, you might even stop it completely and kill the person,” Cronus said. “But you trained in the Circle, so you know all of this already. What can go wrong.

“What I want for you, Anders, is for you to become so talented at spirit healing, that you learn how to do the wrong thing intentionally. To both heal and _un_ heal a person. To tear ligaments and stop blood from clotting properly. You can use this power to save lives, with precision and patience, but master the art, and you can kill with it, too.”

“That’s...barbaric,” Anders said, wincing. “And kiiiinda not the point of Creation magic?”

“The point of magic depends on what you need it for. If you can break a person apart just by looking at them, it will make a lot of your life much easier. Especially against power mad templars,” Cronus said.

“I’d rather just not have to fight any more templars, if it comes to it,” Anders said.

“I agree,” Demeter said, finally deciding to intervene. “Didn’t you say you’d help us destroy our phylacteries anyway?”

“Not help. I’ll be doing it for you when I need to. But just because they can’t use your blood to find you doesn’t mean you won’t meet any in the future,” Cronus said.

“And you know our futures or something like that?” Demeter challenged.

Cronus just grinned. “I know many things.”

She rolled her eyes in response. “We’re just supposed to be learning teamwork, here. Not creepy things that sound closer to blood magic than healing.”

“So you’d rather I focus on barriers and glyphs and little things like that?” Cronus asked. He already looked bored from the concept of that alone.

“For Anders? Yes,” Demeter said. “But I would rather know about that sword style of yours. I’ve never before met a mage who used an actual _weapon_ like that.”

“Because you’ve not been outside the Circle,” Cronus said. “Like they would hand everyone in Kinloch Hold pointy knives to play with. I had enough trouble just convincing a damned Tranquil to give me a Rod of Fire.”

“Sure, but even outside the Circle I’ve not seen anything like it,” Demeter argued. Not that she’d met many other apostates, but there had been a few. They had to look out for their own, of course. No one else would. “Where did you learn it?”

 

Cronus looked at her and said flatly, “The soul of an ancient elf trapped in a piece of crystal.”

Demeter just stared for a moment, certain this was some odd joke on his part. He was strange enough, why shouldn’t his sense of humor be equally unpredictable? But Cronus did not flinch or falter, and seemed to be telling the truth. Demeter liked to think she was a pretty good read of people, too, so she was convinced. Crazy as it sounded.

“O...kay…” she said slowly, processing. “And could you teach it?”

Anders rose his hands quickly. “I don’t want to hold a sword. Really don’t think that’s for me.”

“I wasn’t asking for you,” Demeter said. “I want to learn for myself. And after that, I want you to be honest with me about how you know all the things you know.”

Cronus rose a single brow, smirking at her. “We’ll see about that. Anders, you can go. Think about what I said though.”

Anders was still making a disgusted face as he remembered Cronus’ lecture about “unhealing.” The thought of it was enough to make him want to leave, though he did spare a long glance back at Demeter. She was tough, and would probably be fine without him, but Anders still wasn’t keen on the idea of leaving her with Cronus. He was just...too weird.

“Be careful with that one,” Anders mumbled in an aside to Demeter, then started away towards the others.

“Step one,” Cronus began once Anders was gone, “hold a blade.”

Demeter leveled her gaze at him. As if this was not the most obvious thing. “I don't have a sword, in case you haven't noticed.”

“Then we'll have to get you one before I can teach you. Alas.”

“Can't you just show me some things with yours?”

“Yes,” Cronus said, “but I don't want to.”

Demeter clenched her fists. She was getting nowhere. “I suppose I can go talk to Master Wade, then.”

“He’ll like that. A blade for a mage is an interesting concept. He will readily accept the challenge.”

“You always sound so...certain.”

“I am.”

Demeter tired of this endless back and forth. “At least teach me something. Or tell me how you know all that you do. It's strange, but Nyx doesn't even question it. I gather that she must know, but I'd rather hear it from the source.”

“You will, in time,” Cronus said.

It wasn't so much a promise as it was an inevitably. Even Demeter could sense that it was meant as such.

“For now, I think I'm happier to leave you in the dark. Leaves an air of mystery. Makes things interesting.”

Demeter glared. “You're such an ass.”

Cronus laughed. It clearly wasn't the first time he'd heard that. His amusement only served to infuriate Demeter more. She stomped away, heading towards where Wade and Herren were bickering again. She preferred the company of the quarreling lovers to that of Cronus, for the moment.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

“Coming from the Deep Roads, you must not be so used to the cold Ferelden nights,” Oghren said, leering at Sigrun the whole time. “I've been assured I'm quite nice and warm to hold onto, if you need something to help you sleep.”

Sigrun made a face. “How…generous, of you.”

Oghren chuckled. “I know. Generosity is my middle name, especially when it comes to beautiful women in need of rescuing.”

“Just to be perfectly clear, if you come near me or my room in the middle of the night, I can't be held accountable for what part of your body I end up cutting off. Jumping up with daggers gets to be habit when you've been in the Legion for a while.”

“Ooh, I like 'em feisty,” Oghren said.

Sigrun groaned, and turned away. Oghren just kept chuckling. 

“That was pathetic,” Anders commented.

Oghren turned a glare on the mage. “Like you could do any better. Ladies want a _man._ Not some pretty boy in a dress.”

“I will have you know that I was quite popular, back in the Circle. Plus, the robes make quick, secret trysts a lot easier,” Anders said.

“Huh, really,” Oghren said. “Wynne never mentioned that, but I guess she was just being coy. The old tease.”

Anders, who knew Wynne quite well from time spent studying under her, nearly gagged. She was like his grandmother, or as close to one as he'd ever know. While he'd been mildly disappointed when he heard that Nyx and Oghren ran into her in Amaranthine, he couldn't help but feel some relief, as well. Wynne would not have been happy with him or Demi for leaving Kinloch Hold again, even if they were serving as Wardens now. She would have lectured them both.

“If you think you can do so much better,” Oghren said, a malicious gleam in his eye, “why don't you try it?”

“Seduce someone to prove a point? Challenge accepted,” Anders said with a grin.

Sigrun wasn't too far from them, yet, but Oghren had put her in a foul mood. Plus, she wasn't quite Anders’ type. Instead, he scanned the room before fixating on another target.

Nathaniel was studying some old painting that was hanging in the hall. It was of a woman, beautiful and young. He wasn't looking at it with the sort of fascination one who found the subject attractive would, but had the look of someone who knew her. Knew her well.

“A relative of yours?” Anders asked, sliding up next to the archer.

Nathaniel had not been expecting Anders, and thus was a little jumpy at the sudden company. He relaxed quickly, refocusing on the portrait. “My mother,” he said quietly. “Of all the things they left up, this was not something I expected to see.”

“Why’s that?” Anders asked.

“My father hated my mother,” Nathaniel said. “He only dragged out this painting when grandmother visited…which was not often. He would parade me in front of her and she would pick over every flaw, leaving father to await his turn.”

“So...happy memories?”

Nathaniel fixed him a look, then sighed. “I don’t know why I’m telling you about this. Do mages even know their families?”

“Oh, sure! They visit the Circle all the time. They’re not ashamed of our very existence or anything!” Anders said.

“Alright, I get it. Not a subject you’re fond of.”

“At least we can relate. Howes and mages, both hated for something we didn’t even do ourselves. If there were more Howes, maybe you’d have a tower, too.”

“A thrilling analogy,” Nathaniel said. “Did you come over here for any real reason? Or are you just here to ruin my day?”

“Here I thought I was improving it, keeping you from staring at the wall with that sour expression for hours.”

Nathaniel sighed. “Yes, you’re _very_ helpful.”

“It’s all I can think to do for someone almost as handsome as I am,” Anders said.

“What?”

“You heard me. Bet that look was a hit up in the Free Marches.”

Nathaniel was turning a little pink, but groaned and tried to turn away quick as he could to evade notice. “You’re impossible to talk to.”

“I do my best,” Anders said.

Nathaniel grunted and made his retreat. Anders didn’t attempt to follow, turning back to Oghren instead.

“Not my best work, I’ll admit. But it’s progress,” Anders said, with hands on his hips.

“Doesn’t count,” Oghren said. “You never said it would be a _guy._ ”

“I didn’t realize that was against the rules,” Anders said, raising a brow. He could sense the dwarf’s discomfort, and it gave him a sick sense of glee.

“It’s cheating is what it is! You were supposed to chase Sigrun!”

“And ruin your own chances with her by making her fall hopelessly in love with me? I would never do that to my good friend Oggie. I’m a gentleman.”

Oghren grumbled a lot of things, most of them cuss words and the rest indecipherable. Then a little more clearly, he said, “...and the name’s _Oghren_ you ass.”

Anders just laughed while the dwarf stomped away, probably looking to get very drunk. Honestly, it didn’t sound like such a bad idea, though it was still a bit early for it in Anders’ opinion. He went off instead to see if Demeter had freed herself from Cronus’ new training schedule, which had been brutal and strictly enforced. Maybe she’d have ideas on how to seduce the Howe.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

Nyx was starting to see, given more time, the Nathaniel Howe she once knew. He was adjusting well to the Grey Warden life, and seemed to make friends with everyone there. Sigrun had readily approved of him, even blushing a bit. Anders and Demeter seemed to be plotting something together in relation to Nathaniel, but whatever it was seemed harmless, so Nyx didn’t interfere. Even Oghren had warmed up to him, with a bit of time.

Cadmus’ opinion of any of them mostly had to do with their physical talents and skills, yet. She’d not gotten too much time to know him, partially out of avoidance. He seemed likely to sense that something about her wasn’t quite right, and Nyx wouldn’t risk that.

Which meant spending a fair amount of time alone, walking the grounds and making important decisions for the Wardens. Every few steps someone would stop her and ask a question about revitalizing the structural integrity of the keep, or about some trouble with a guard who had deserted to protect their family. In truth, it was exhausting to do it all alone. She was used to the decisions, but didn’t like having to handle making them without Alistair as support.

Nyx was glad when she saw Nathaniel, figuring his company was better than none at all. They had a lot of things to patch up, yet. They had to start somewhere.

“Hello,” she said, announcing her presence to him.

“Commander,” Nathaniel said, with a stiff nod to her.

They stood in silence for a long moment. Then they tried to talk at the same time.

“Are you—?”

“You know, I—”

They coughed, then had an awkward exchange of “you first” “no you” “please I insist.” Finally, Nathaniel went ahead and took the reigns.

“You know, I’m not actually the first Howe to be a Grey Warden,” he said.

“That’s surprising,” Nyx said. “Considering your father…” Not a great idea to bring that up, she decided, and stopped short.

“Actually, considering who it was, it makes more sense. It was my grandfather,” Nathaniel said. There was a humor in the bitterness. “His name was Padric Howe. He joined the order before it returned to Ferelden, just after the war. Never contacted his family again, just vanished. Now that I know about the Joining, I think he died.”

Nyx lowered her head. “Many good people are lost to the Joining. It was luck that we didn’t lose anyone during yours. I watched two die, for mine.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “And I know that, now. Before, we simply thought he’d abandoned us. Father told me he was a horrible man who left to follow a pointless cause. I grew up ashamed of my grandfather, but now I see his bravery. That will take some getting used to.”

“There was no way you could have known. Or even your father. I can’t condone his actions, but I don’t blame him for feeling hurt by what seemed to be a betrayal,” Nyx said.

The only difference was, Rendon Howe’s betrayal had not only “seemed” to exist. It had been very, very real. Innocent lies had paid that price. She didn’t need to say it aloud for Nathaniel to grasp that.

“My father often forgot that ‘nobility’ has another meaning,” Nathaniel said, placing a hand on Nyx’s shoulder in comfort. “I’ve seen that in you.”

Nyx felt unworthy of that, with all her secrets still being kept. She didn’t get the chance to disagree, as Nathaniel’s attention was drawn elsewhere. She followed his shocked gaze to see an older elven man, in drab clothing that was covered in evidence of his hard work.

“Samuel? Groundskeeper Samuel? Is that you?” Nathaniel said. There was an almost childlike delight to him at the sight of the elderly man.

“Who…? Maker’s breath, if it isn’t little Nate! I’d know that face anywhere!” the elf said. He chuckled a little. “Though I can hardly call you little with how much you’ve grown.”

“Groundskeeper, I’m overjoyed that you stayed on,” Nathaniel said. He was still smiling, until his thoughts brought him back to questions left unanswered. “Please, do you know how my brother died? And my sister? I...was in the Free Marches.”

“Your brother died in the war, sorry to say,” Samuel told him, “but Lady Delilah… Don’t you know? She isn’t dead, son, not that I know of. Last I heard, she married a storekeep in Amaranthine. Don’t know which one. Poor girl.”

Nyx quirked a brow at the pity in his tone, but after a moment, remembered that they had been a noble family. It would have seemed a downgrade to most of them to wind up with a merchant. It was even possible that it had been done out of survival. Not everyone was so lucky as to marry for love, as Nyx and Hera had.

Nathaniel, at least, seemed focused on the positive. “Did you hear that? My sister’s alive!”

“And in Amaranthine,” Nyx said. “We’ve more trips to make to the city. We can make time to find her and arrange a meeting. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to see you again.”

“Truly, you would?” Nathaniel said, still glowing with joy. “Thank you. I would be interested to know just what happened to her.”

Nyx wanted to find out, as well. Delilah Howe had not been one of the family that Nyx had known well. She’d stayed home for many of the long trips, and was often coddled by her nannies at a younger age. By the time they’d grown, Nyx and Fergus rarely went to Amaranthine with their father, as they were expected to take over parts of caring for Highever castle while Bryce was away. Their mother helped, of course, but it was an opportunity for them to learn what ruling an arling could be like.

She couldn’t say she knew enough about the younger Howe to predict whether the marriage was for love or desperation. Still, Nyx prayed it was the former. Delilah was not her father, as Nathaniel wasn’t his. They deserved some happiness, if they could find it.

Though Nyx couldn’t help but flashback to Goldanna for a moment. Maker willing, this would not be at all like that.

“If there’s anything she needs, I’ll try to help in whatever way I can,” Nyx offered.

“That is kind of you, Commander. Hopefully, it is also unnecessary,” Nathaniel said.

“You can just call me Nyx, you know. Like you used to.”

Nathaniel stalled. “...perhaps. You are not who I once thought. But you are also not the person I deeply wished to blame.”

“Would it surprise you to know you’re not the first to discover that?”

Nathaniel smirked. “Probably not. Little Cousland all grown and killing darkspawn every day was not the image I’d pictured for you.”

“Nor I, you,” Nyx said. “But it’s a good look for you, Nathaniel.”

“You think so?” he said, contemplating this. “There must be worse fates.”

Nyx knew for a fact that there were. They took this as a moment to part, mulling over their pasts, presents, and futures. There had been heartbreak, true, but now Nyx saw opportunity where she might not have before. The hope in her heart was a wondrous feeling.


	7. Like Ripples in Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it just me or did the past week go by really fast? Anyway, here's the next chapter.
> 
> Stakes get raised a little at the end.

_Dear Nyx,_

_Or should I be calling you_ Commander Nyx _now? It seems you cannot stop yourself from accumulating more titles. I think I prefer the glory I’ve found in the shadows. It’s a little safer, especially when your beloved needs to hide from deadly assassins. Though we manage to keep one step ahead._

_Very few rumors have wandered our way. Those that have sound both ridiculous and strangely familiar. Didn’t Cronus mention something about talking darkspawn? Or am I remembering that wrong? Zevran said it sounded familiar to him, as well, so perhaps that was it. Or it was a shared fever dream, at some point during the chaos of the Blight. That wouldn’t surprise me, either._

_I’ve tried to keep in touch with the clan, but it’s difficult. Not too many people are willing to run letters out to the wild Dalish, much less the campsite clan Sabrae has picked for themselves. What is the Keeper thinking, taking them to Sundermount? There’s game, sure, but not enough to last them. Plus there is always talk of curses and such… I know too much about geography to rest easy, no matter the place they stop in. I suppose our people do have history there._

_Maybe someday Zevran and I will cross the Waking Sea ourselves and check in on them. Apparently Keeper Marethari has been having more arguments with Merrill, but she won’t tell me why. She’s always getting herself into these sorts of situations...in over her head! I can’t help but want to shake her until she comes to her senses. Though maybe it’s the Keeper that’s being unreasonable? It’s hard to say when no one_ tells _me anything!_

_Pardon my frustrations. You’ve a lot of things to deal with already, without my adding to them. What I meant to say, in sending this, is that I wish you well. I wish I could kick darkspawn ass with you, for old times’ sake, but I’m also glad to be miles away from there. If I can go my whole life and never stare one of those ugly creatures in the face again, I will be glad for it._

_Zev sends his love, as well. He won’t admit it, but he frets over you often. It’s quite adorable._

_Be safe, my friend. Don’t let the darkspawn steal your happiness away. You are meant to live well. We’ve given too much to ensure that._

_Always your sister in spirit,  
Hera Mahariel_

The letter made Nyx smile, and lifted some of the weight from the pit of her gut. Her friends were far and she was growing more homesick by the day. Hearing from Hera made her sister feel closer, even if she was still in some undisclosed location. (Not even Nyx could know, in case the letters were intercepted by Crows.)

The next was a very bored update from Alistair, of all the things that had been going on in Denerim. He eventually wound up just talking about random things that had happened to him that he’d wished she’d been around for. Little things that made him laugh or feel sad or nostalgic that they would have been able to share were she not so far. She ached for how much he missed her, because Nyx felt it too. They say home is where the heart is, and he was her _vhenan._

She penned a brief reply to Hera, with all the information that was safe to share in a letter. Then, Nyx got to work on a letter to her husband.

_My dearest love,_

_I miss you, as well. I hate to say it, because it pains me to think it, but you are so far. I grew so used to having you at my side, there is space now that you used to occupy. You will again, when I return. I only hope that the day I can ride for Denerim comes soon._

_As for the bird you swear is watching you, I don’t think it’s Morrigan. Nor a spy of hers. I promise you, love, she wouldn’t dare come so close, even in disguise. Besides, she has a child to look after. She can hardly leave the baby just to watch you. You don’t need to feel paranoid. Maybe just tell the cooks to throw stale bread a bit further from the castle, so it stops attracting these flocks._

_Life in the Keep has been like an odd combination of time during the Blight, and my time with you in Denerim. The place doesn’t feel as safe as Highever did, but that is more because of how ignorant I was of cruelties before the Blight began. Well, there are still issues with the structure of the place, but those are being mended even as I write this._

_I should tell you about Cadmus, and Sigrun, and everything, but I fear it would take hundreds of pages to say all that I wish. I know your time is precious, so I will be brief:_

_Sigrun is a Legionnaire who has now come to the surface to join the Grey Wardens, as well. She’s one of the best we have, given how much time she’s already spent killing darkspawn. She’s also incredibly sweet. I think you’d like her. I think you’d like a lot of our newer recruits, including those two mages you met in your short visit here._

_Cadmus is...a little more complex to explain. He came over from Orlais after he heard of the deaths of his friends. He is an elf with what appear to me to be Dalish markings, but I’m uncertain how he came to be with the Wardens. I’ve not asked and he’s not said, so maybe I will never know. Cronus says that he was the one to take my place. You know,_ before. _So he’s probably going to be a great asset in the coming struggles, though he also might catch on too quickly to other things._

_Cronus, meanwhile, has been very much himself. He is testing his splintered mind to see what his changes make of time. The very thought that his help may hold repercussions for any of us terrifies me. We’ve not seen any signs of danger from that yet, but it could be that the cost we are to pay is already here, in the form of this new darkspawn threat._

_I suppose you’re thinking that now_ I’m _the one who sounds paranoid._

_But, Alistair, my thoughts keep wandering back to...our “wedding gift.” Using it could give us what we want, certainly, but she didn’t tell us what price there is to pay. Cronus is convinced that nothing comes free when it comes to these things, and I am inclined to agree. Keep it, for now, but when the time comes for me to return, we should discuss its use further. If the cost seems too high, we’ll destroy it once and for all and be done with the thing._

_I’m sorry to be so grim. There isn’t much good news to share. Hera and Zevran are safe, still, and send on their love. Oh, and Nathaniel Howe is here! Of all the people to see again, I didn’t think he’d be one of them. Not to worry. We are in the process of reconciling after what was done to his father._

_I don’t want him to know that Hera was the one to kill him. If he thinks it was my hand that finished things, it is better. My motivations are clear and without the complication that always seems to come with our lives. Let him think it is so simple. Perhaps it will make it easier for Nathaniel to heal._

_I am going to ask that Seneschal Varel include official reports for you. I don’t have the energy to write them all, and I’m not even certain I’ll remember which details are more important to share. Like I said, I could write you a short novel of the things I want to tell you. I suppose some of it will simply have to wait until I return home, to your side._

_Always and always my love to you._

_Sincerely,  
Nyx Cousland Theirin_

She planted a small kiss on the corner of the parchment, the red pigment on her lips transferring it in a mark. If she had more time, she would have thought up something to doodle there, too, but time was precious. Nyx needed to get her letters to the Seneschal as soon as possible so they could be sent.

With the two pages sealed in their individual envelopes, Nyx prepared herself to leave her room and go to the main hall where Varel would be waiting. But she opened her door and jumped back a bit. Cronus was standing just on the other side.

“Greetings, Commander Cousland,” he said with a smile.

“Good afternoon,” Nyx replied. “Excuse me, but I—”

“Have letters to deliver?” Cronus finished for her. He looked down at her hand. “Curious contents…at least in one of those.”

Nyx swallowed. Her letter to Hera had been innocent enough. Cronus had to be talking about the one she had for Alistair.

“What do you know?” she asked, brow furrowed just so.

“I know what Morrigan sent. I know you haven't used it, but that you want to. Badly,” Cronus said. He had that smile he got when he knew something you didn't, and realized this gave him leverage over you. “No judgment.Whatever you decide you're still the same person, and you would be the one to live with what consequences might come.”

“I don't suppose you would share what you see?” Nyx said.

“If I did, it could only complicate the issue. If we find there's been no harm done in the changes made, maybe I'll let you know. But for now, I think it's best if my lips remain sealed.”

Nyx hated him for bringing it up, but conceded his point. That was likely the whole reason for showing up outside her door; tormenting her with the idea that he knew, while refusing to give her answers. If Cronus hadn't actually helped in other matters, she might have been more tempted just to send him packing. For now, his help was too valuable to let negative emotions call the shots.

“By the way, they're ready for us to head down under the Keep again. I'd gather the troops, so to speak, were I you. Nothing too interesting down there, but you will want to seal up that hole the darkspawn keep crawling out of,” Cronus said.

Nyx merely nodded, and went on her way. She was tempted to leave him behind, for this one. Were he not so talented in magic as he was, maybe she would have. As it stood, they were better safe than sorry.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

Anders whistled. This was indeed another segment of the Deep Roads, but there were things that were vastly different here from Kal’Hirol. Most notably were the dozens of Avvar artifacts and the statues of Avvar gods. It was as if they had at some point sought refuge among the dwarves.

“Now what is the story here?” Anders wondered aloud. “Did you know about this, Nate?”

Nathaniel colored at the nickname, which had only ever been used affectionately by those close in his life. “No,” he answered flatly.

“Really? No Avvar background to the Howe family?” Anders pressed.

“ _No._ ”

Demeter studied the statue of the Avvar mother goddess. The descriptions of Avvar religion were largely uninformative. That was because so little was known about them. Few of those outside the tribes were allowed to get close, and those that did either didn't learn much or did not share their experiences. A few Avvar were known to travel and trade for things they needed back home, but those people were more interested in bring back knowledge of the outside world than telling others of their own traditions.

What Demeter did know was that the so-called “gods” were actually spirits and demons. Really it was hard not to mistake those as godly beings, since they were pure magical energy. Yet, it sounded wrong to Demeter. Anders felt somewhat similarly, though they both found some of the stories to be fascinating.

“I've seen something like this,” Nyx said, looking over worn fur bedspreads and broken weaponry. “Another part of the Deep Roads, Cadash thaig, was at one point a safehaven for elves. How and why they came to be there is still a mystery to me, but it seems that dwarves might not have always been as isolated as Orzammar would like to think.”

“I thought you stayed behind when they went to Cadash thaig?” Oghren said.

Nyx became unnecessarily flustered for a moment, clearing her throat. “Hera mentioned it, so I went back after the Blight to explore.”

Cronus hit the back of Oghren’s head before the dwarf could say anything else. This only served to make him grumpier, shouting at Cronus for a while before falling into upset mumbles.

They moved along. There were darkspawn popping out of every nook and cranny and they very much needed to die. Where important resources could be found, Nyx made a note to share the information with the right person. Herren would want to know about supplies for armor and weapons crafting, while there were some interesting deposits of lyrium that were a bit unlike the kind Nyx was used to seeing. Anything to further fortify the Keep would be explored when they were able to do so safely.

In the meantime, they continued to look around at various things left behind by previous occupants. Anders and Demeter focused on the clearly Avvar objects, looking to find any clear magical uses for them. Cadmus looked at weapons that were lying around, testing their quality and sharing them if they were worth keeping. Among those was an old bow, which he brought first to Nyx.

“Thank you, Cadmus, but I don't really need a new…” Nyx began, then paused. Nathaniel had mentioned a bow, at some point. She vaguely recalled the description, which he had given in hopes that she had already seen it around. The markings matched those he mentioned.

“Nathaniel?” Nyx called. “This is… Is this yours?”

Nathaniel was quizzical at first, but when his eyes landed on the curved wood, he stared with eyes wide.

“It… But how did…?”

“The darkspawn must have taken it down here, at some point,” Nyx reasoned. “It explains why no one has been able to find it.”

Nathaniel took the bow from Cadmus, cradling it like the precious thing it was. “Thank you,” he said, voice tinged with disbelief and awe. “Thank you, Nyx.”

She paused, then smiled wide. “I'm just glad it's where it belongs once more.” And, she was glad he used her name.

Anders huffed quietly where he stood, watching.

“Jealous?” Demeter teased.

“She's married,” Anders said, like that prevented him from being jealous. “Nothing will happen.”

“Oh, probably not. But you know, they are old friends. It's possible that once, long ago, in the past…”

Anders only frowned harder, which made Demeter laugh.

“Don't you worry,” she said, patting his shoulder. “He's different with you. I think he and Nyx are more like, well, us.”

“I hope so,” Anders mumbled. But not to be discouraged (not for long, anyhow) he skipped ahead and walked beside Nathaniel, attempting to chat with him as they continued through the Deep Roads. “You know, I think I'm beginning to like the Howe’s.”

“Really?” Nathaniel said, unimpressed.

“I'm also a fan of the Who's, the Why’s, and the What's!” Anders said.

Nathaniel groaned. “Clever. I've never heard _that_ before.” His sarcasm was about as strong as his blush.

“It is truly shameful how long it took me to think of that one,” Anders said, miming the act of wiping away a tear.

“Focus,” Nathaniel scolded him. “This isn't the place to be fooling around.”

“Where then? Your room? Or would you rather fool around in mine?” Anders was wiggling his eyebrows in the most ridiculous manner. Still, it worked as intended and Nate’s rosy cheeks grew ever rosier.

Nathaniel was preparing a retort when the wraith was released. The runes on his grandfather’s bow gleamed when he drew back the string and prepared to fire. It was an old, old enchantment. The bow itself had been crafted by ancient Avvar hands, and required no arrows to fire. Instead, the runic magic formed elemental arrows that were purely energy. He could combine the shot with a physical arrow, if he wished, but that was a strategy only necessary with the strongest enemies.

Anders was awestricken as the first of those magic arrows was let loose. The wraith cried out in anguish at the pain. Not to be outdone, Anders sent forth a fireball, containing the explosion as best he could. The rest of the party was still far enough away that they were safe from the blast.

But when the flames cleared, Nyx was ready with Stargazer and Percy. She swung her sword, but the wraith was able to prepare a barrier and stop her just short of hitting it.

Cadmus and Sunburst were preparing to flank the wraith while Nyx drew its attention. When the barrier fell again, the wraith’s magic only capable of short bursts, Cadmus dug in his daggers and dragged them through its muddy flesh.

It seemed like an easy fight, for a moment. The creature was wildly outnumbered and probably outclassed. But the call for reinforcements rang out in a scream, and the dead Avvar warriors rose from their tombs. Nyx’s other allies rounded and prepared for a long battle.

The scream had also attracted a number of darkspawn, which was to be expected in the Deep Roads. Oghren went head on with a hurlock, then took its head _off._

Sigrun went with a more mobile approach, running past enemies and cutting them where it looked like they were most vulnerable. But undead were best burned, so she rustled through her pack before grinning at an Antivan fire bomb.

She rushed back in, rounding a group of undead like she was a dog herding sheep. Then, Sigrun tossed the jar of liquid flame and kept her distance.

The undead went up like a bonfire. Sigrun threw a fist in the air and cheered.

Her premature celebration served only to draw a hurlock’s attention. Sigrun was lucky to find that Cronus was nearby, his blade coated in a flame of magical conjuring. He stabbed the darkspawn through the back, his eyes drifting down to Sigrun. He smirked darkly, making sure to watch as it dawned on her that he might've just saved her life.

“Let's cheer later, shall we? That wraith isn't likely to give up so easily,” Cronus said. He spoke it like a warning.

Which it was. As soon as the reinforcements were dead, the wraith screamed again and ran, breaking down a wall just to escape. It left a large hole through which the Wardens could chase it. Nyx quickly advised caution, even as they followed the path that the creature took.

As one would expect, the wraith brought them to a trap, and to the feet of an ogre. It roared in its fury, beating its chest and blocking their path. The good news was, behind the massive darkspawn was an odd and mechanical door. It seemed like the answer they needed to protect the Keep from further attack.

Nyx swapped out her weapons, drawing up Moonlight and nocking an arrow. She stood back with Nathaniel and Anders. She was surprised when, instead of pulling back with them, Demeter drew a blade and rushed in with Cronus. It certainly explained the request she'd made for more sturdy Warden armor, instead of the robes she had been wearing.

She moved similarly to the way Cronus did, if less practiced. Demeter had still brought her staff along, as Cronus did, just in case. Most of the time, she’d even been using it. She was uncertain what possessed her to leap forward with her blade _now,_ when they were up against a massive ogre. Still, she threw ice spells from the tip of her specially crafted blade (thank you, Master Wade!) and tried to find openings in the creature’s movements like Cronus had instructed.

Sunburst and Perseus were a great help, in that. They rounded the beast’s feet, barking and nipping and pulling its attention towards them. Which simultaneously directed the ogre away from the Wardens.

However, Demeter, still lacking in her practice, moved in a moment too soon. The large darkspawn roared in fury when her sword pierced one of its calves and brought down a meaty fist in retaliation. She wasn’t quick enough to move out of the way, and was struck. Her body was thrown back against a wall, but she noticed it didn’t hurt as much as it otherwise would have.

Demeter looked for Anders, expecting his eyes to be on her and his hands up casting barrier magic. Instead, she met the deep blue irises of her instructor, Cronus. His expression was dark and grim, but...worried? That was unexpected.

She watched as Cronus stepped into the fray once more, the barrier around Demeter holding for just a moment longer before he made a long cut across the ogre’s back. Instead of her ice, Cronus wielded flame that covered the metal of his blade and burned into the darkspawn’s wound. He was more prepared to dodge, and when the ogre tried to grab at him, Cronus was no longer close enough for the creature to reach.

Nathaniel continued to strike with magical arrows, though he’d now added in the physical ones for an extra kick. Between his sharpshooting, the mages’ collective efforts, Cadmus’ crafty dagger wielding, and eventually Nyx’s greatsword clashing with the beast, the ogre finally fell. Nate breathed a sigh of relief, but felt his energy quickly returned to him.

On his right was Anders, waving a hand and smiling. The fool was still expending mana, even with the fighting done? Nathaniel glowered, but had to admit that it was a lot easier to breathe and move his arms than it usually was after a fight. He didn’t need to antagonize Anders when he had only been doing something nice for Nate. He reworked his expression into something closer to neutral, and waved back.

Everyone was beginning to relax and pull out poultices to fix themselves up. That is, everyone but Nyx, Cronus, and Cadmus.

“There’s more,” Cadmus said, looking to his Commander.

Nyx nodded. “Be on your guard!” she called to the rest of them.

Oghren, who was a little too close to the body, stumbled back and fell when the ogre started to stand again. “What in the bleeding…? You were dead! This stupid fucking blighter was _dead!_ ”

Demeter, who unlike Oghren was back on her feet, stared in horror. “The wraith. The wraith is possessing the ogre!”

“Shit!” Oghren said, scrambling his way back to standing. “Shit shit _shit!_ ”

“Ditto,” Cronus said with a wry grin. Before the ogre could stamp towards the fallen dwarf, Cronus called up Winter’s Breath, using extra mana to supercharge it. The beast’s movements slowed, and Oghren had an opening.

His axe hacked into the ogre’s side, then its right calf, then he retreated to avoid the creature’s swiping palm. Enraged, the ogre roared, raising its head up as two voices cried out of its throat. The wraith screamed along with it in an eerie harmony. The darkspawn turned and took a small step backwards, readying itself.

“Move!” Nyx shouted.

The ogre charged. Cadmus tucked and rolled to the side while Nyx barely managed to step out of the way. Cronus had been ready before Nyx even spoke. It always made her wonder if he could even predict moments of a tense battle as it was going on, or if he was just particularly observant.

The ogre crashed head-on (literally) into a pillar. While it was distracted by its self-inflicted injury, Nyx and Cadmus started their way towards the beast.

It was much easier to kill, this time, partially because they were already running on the adrenaline from before. The other part was that it was already a dead body, and no matter how skillfully the wraith puppeted it, the form was weak. The wraith had also been weakened from their fight earlier, so its spirit gave out far quicker than it had held out the first time.

The ogre fell again, its body sending heavy vibrations through the earth. Now, they could all relax, and take a moment to heal.

“Sigrun and Nathaniel, the two of you should run back and get Voldrik and Sergeant Maverlies. We’ll need a way to seal this passage for good,” Nyx said, once she’d caught her breath.

Anders volunteered to go with them, and Nyx saw no reason to argue, so she waved them off. Nathaniel looked conflicted about that, for some reason, and Demeter was trying to smother a laugh behind her hand. At least they were having fun, with all the Grey Wardening they had to do.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

Nyx rolled her neck. After a long day of practice sparring against the other Wardens, she was worn out, but satisfied. Cadmus and Sigrun had worked together and both showed a lot of growth in their technique. Had they actually been aiming to hurt Nyx, they would have gotten in a fair amount of blows and proven to be tough opponents. It made her proud.

Even Oghren was finding moments of clarity while using his rage as a source of power. If she could keep him closer to being sober more often, Nyx suspected she’d see the true warrior caste dwarf that he’d once been. Hard to say if the heavy drinking had come before or after Branka’s departure. It certainly got heavier when something was on his mind, which reminded her she would need to talk to him as soon as she could. Oghren had been very near glued to the flask, lately.

Nathaniel was still incredible with a bow, but now that he had the Howe bow they’d found down in the Deep Roads, he seemed even better. The energy arrows sank deeper, and actually ruined one of their targets on the range. He apologized, but Nyx was too impressed to be upset about it. They had it replaced and Nate swore to use a regular bow for practice from then on.

Cronus had claimed Demeter as his pupil and monopolized her time. From what he’d let Nyx observe, she could see improvement and added focus. Demeter leaned even more heavily towards an offensive strategy after starting lessons with Cronus.

Whatever it was that made him so dedicated to teaching her the skills of an Arcane Warrior, Nyx was glad to see it. He looked genuinely happy when he spent time with Demeter. Nyx wouldn’t even attempt to puzzle out that one. She accepted it as a positive thing and let them be.

Anders, however, was left mostly without any instruction. He ended up going back to books and returning to old drills he’d run with Wynne and other Creation specialists in the Circle. Eventually, Nyx pressed to make Cronus split his time between the mages, or to at least let Demeter go and practice with her friend. It took a little lecturing and a gentle reminder that Nyx was still his Commander before he relented.

Even so, all of the Grey Wardens had vastly improved. Which meant they were ready to head back out into the world and take on more of the troubles that awaited them. Nyx planned to take them out on the Pilgrim’s Path, next, to find out what was killing people and scaring merchants away. It would make empowering the Keep and Amaranthine City easier, once trade was restored.

She was going to let Varel know, making her way to the main hall, when the Private who delivered Nyx all her messages stepped into her path and stopped short with a salute.

“Pardon me, Commander! I’ve a letter just in from part of the guard. They thought you might want to know about...well, something happened. I don’t have all the details, apologies, but they mentioned something about this being important for you to see, given your involvement. Again, I don’t know what they meant, but—!”

“At ease,” Nyx said, her exhaustion showing in her tone. “I’m sure the letter will explain all that I need to know. Thank you, Private. You may go.”

The Private nodded sharply, saluted again, and ran off. Nyx was left with a letter in her hands. She couldn’t explain it, but it felt heavy. The contents were just a couple pages of parchment. The only thing that gave it any real weight was the wax seal on the outside. But the letter seemed to drag her hands down.

It was all in her head, of course, but why?

Nyx opened it, and read. And then, she understood. Her cheeks paled, and she rerouted herself, going back towards the rooms and finding the door to where Cronus would be.

She didn’t bother knocking. He probably knew she was coming, right?

By the way he startled, maybe he didn’t. “Now what would you have done had I been naked?” Cronus said.

Nyx ignored the comment. “Read this.” She thrust the letter forward, not giving him a choice.

He studied her face for a moment, then sighed and took the paper from her hand. It took him less than a minute to take in all the information he needed. Cronus laid the letter down on the table nearest to him without even finishing it.

“She’s dead,” Cronus breathed.

“You didn’t see this? You couldn’t predict this?” Nyx asked.

“It’s an uncommon future,” Cronus said. She’d never seen him so scared. He paced as he continued. “A future caused by my interference alone. No Hero in their right mind would turn away help without a good reason. And I gave it to you.”

Mhairi had died, out scouting for the guard after someone had deserted. No one heard from her for over a week, then her body was found. Mutilated and bloody, in ways that gave the impression she’d been kept alive as long as possible while her killer tormented her. There were marks that gave the impression Mhairi’s killers had been some of the intelligent darkspawn.

Nyx had to sit down. This was not what she’d been expecting to hear. Guilt flooded her. She wished that the familiarity of the emotion would numb her to its effects, but that was not the case. She felt it in full.

“I should have let her try,” Nyx said. Joining the Wardens had been what Mhairi had wanted. It was her way to serve the new king and queen, who had pledged to do good in the spirit of Cailan and in defiance of the traitor Loghain. She’d told Nyx as much, even though the truth was a little different than she seemed to believe. Mhairi had wanted to be a part of the Grey Wardens who had saved Ferelden. In a mistaken attempt to save her, had Nyx become responsible for her death?

“You see why I shouldn’t give you an answer when you ask me about your potion?” Cronus said. In his fear, he was becoming angry, agitated. “Whether or not the result is bad on its own, if I change your decision with my power… We changed the course of history and it corrected itself. Violently, might I add.”

“You think…” Nyx paused, then swallowed. “We’ve already changed so much. What other consequences are there yet to come?”

Cronus shook his head. He couldn’t look at her. What if this wound around and hurt the ones they loved? What if one day time had enough with their meddling and just killed them to make the changes stop?

“So what do we do?” Nyx said, standing again. “You just stop looking into time and helping?”

“It’s not so simple as that,” Cronus said. “Sometimes it just...forces me into it. Going too long without following the splintered paths hurts me. You remember when I was first given the power?”

Nyx nodded. That was a day she would never forget. She’d missed most of the night, unconscious from injuries sustained in the final fight with the Changeling. Still, she had seen the way Cronus had convulsed, the way his eyes had bled and his throat had sounded as if it was closing up. She wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone.

“Then you need to look, but then you can’t change things too drastically,” Nyx decided. “Stick to the possibilities you know. If we start to veer too far from what time has already accounted for—”

“Fuck, Nyx!” Cronus shouted suddenly. “We don’t even know if this is because of us!”

“What else could it be?”

“A coincidence? An accident? I need to know what’s coming, otherwise I can’t protect them,” Cronus said.

Nyx’s mouth hung open just slightly. “You’re...worried about Morrigan. And your son?”

Cronus glared. “Of course I’m worried. I’m not heartless. No matter what you think of me, there are things I care about.”

There was silence for a moment. Then, Nyx asked, “...Demeter?”

“Reparations. For past mistakes.”

“How so?”

“You don’t want to know what I see in this broken head of mine? Then don’t ask things like that.”

Nyx grimaced, letting the issue go for the time being. That was what she’d been asking for. But if he was still changing things on his own, wasn’t there not much of a point to not knowing?

“Just be careful,” Nyx said, settling on that as enough for now. Until they knew more or had more evidence one way or another, it would have to do. “Any other changes, they can’t be extreme.”

Cronus stared at the ground. “You’ll regret asking for that.”

“I might regret not asking for it _more,_ given present evidence.”

“All I’m saying is, there’s a reason I only consider two people as those important to me. Everyone around us will die one day. Some of them will suffer first.”

It almost sounded like a threat, but Nyx caught this look of despair in his eyes that he had hidden so well before. It must have been such a burden, all that time, knowing both the best and worst case scenarios. Sometimes not even knowing which was which. Even if you were like Cronus, who claimed not to care, it had to hurt to stand by sometimes. To let the bad things happen for fear of what would occur otherwise.

He met her gaze, and must have caught something in it. Hopelessness, perhaps. He offered a smile, fake as a smile could be.

“There are other heroes. Not just ‘of Ferelden,’ but other people willing to stand up for Thedas and attempt to calm the chaos. Even if I can’t help, even if _you_ can’t, we’re not the only soldiers in this war,” Cronus said.

Nyx assumed he wasn’t referring to a literal war, but then again, maybe he was. Maybe something was coming far in the future that he just couldn’t say. What horrors had he seen?

She was too exhausted from the day and from this conversation alone to continue, so she left him hanging on his final words. Nyx finished what she’d set out to do in the first place, and let Varel know her plan to set out the next day. He set about making arrangements for their journey along the Pilgrim’s Path.

Maybe it would end up needing only a simple solution. Killing some darkspawn and saving the day, the way the Grey Wardens were meant to do. If she could only be so lucky as to find something as black and white as Wardens and darkspawn.


	8. Dalish at Heart

Nyx was ashamed to admit to herself that she was avoiding Cronus. After the night they’d found out about Mhairi, she didn’t want to talk to him much at all. From the way he’d responded to her few inquiries, Cronus was feeling much the same. It was a good thing, in Nyx’s opinion. They had the mission ahead to worry about, and bandits and darkspawn to watch for while on the road. They hardly needed an extra distraction.

Still, it did get boring after a lot of just walking along one path. So, Nyx found company beside Cadmus. Her curiosity was getting the better of her, as she started to ask questions about his life before coming to Vigil’s Keep. He had a few stories about the Grey Warden order in Orlais, but for every story he shared, he posed a question of his own to her.

It only made sense. Not only that they were trading stories for stories, but for him to be curious about Nyx in particular. Cadmus was interesting to Nyx for personal reasons, but Nyx was a fascination to many. She was the Hero of Ferelden, which birthed a number of questions and rumors. Nyx just had to tiptoe around the issues of her own past and the fact that she survived the fight against the Archdemon, despite being responsible for the killing blow.

“Usually it’s kept a secret among senior Wardens, to avoid acts of heroism among young and excitable recruits. But obviously, the circumstances were different with you. We also don’t normally have Blights, at all,” Cadmus said, expression grim.

“Would that have made you a senior Warden?” Nyx asked. He knew, so someone had to have told him.

“No, but I wasn’t some green recruit either,” Cadmus said. “They told any of us who were being considered for placement in Ferelden, because we might run into you. Honestly, they were trying to use us to gather intel.”

“That...sounds like the Orlais Loghain was afraid of finding,” Nyx said.

Cadmus shook his head. “You’ve nothing to worry about. It’s posturing and politicking, but little more than that. They can hardly accuse the person who saved all of Ferelden of doing something unsavory to survive the Blight. Besides, they are scratching their heads just trying to figure out what could have been done, let alone ruling out what you actually did.”

Nyx was starting to think “unsavory” should be her middle name. Alistair would have laughed at that, which made her relax a bit.

“None of them simply considered that they were wrong about needing to have a sacrifice to kill the Archdemon?” Nyx asked. It had been the simplest lie they could tell, but sometimes it was a simple answer that was more effective.

“Wardens are mired in tradition, as you are well aware. To think we've been wrong all this time is difficult for many of us to grasp.”

So long as they weren't attempting to pursue the matter further, Nyx was fine with their curiosity. In time, perhaps they'd be over it. There were other things for Wardens to worry about, even in peacetime between Blights.

“May I ask a personal question?” Nyx said, changing the subject to something that made her less anxious.

“I suppose. I can't promise I will be willing to answer, depending on the intrusiveness,” Cadmus said. He showed her a smirk so she would know there was no malice.

“The markings on your face… I have a friend who is Dalish. Hera. We met during the Blight and fought together. A full facial tattoo like that must be vallaslin, correct? I know city elves can sometimes afford the decoration, but the particular design strikes me as being Dalish,” Nyx said.

“You have a good eye for that, then,” Cadmus said. “Yes, I was Dalish, once.”

“What happened? Was it the Grey Wardens that drew you from your clan?”

“No, that was after I had left. Let's just say the Keeper and I didn't agree on things. A lot of things. The last argument was on which direction we should head next, since shemlen lords were getting antsy with us so close to their lands. I thought for sure the shem soldiers were pushing us back one way to lead us into a trap. My Keeper disagreed. In the end I decided to split off from them. Made a fool out of myself in the process, insisting anyone that wanted to live should have been going with me. No one did.”

“Were you right about the trap?”

“Apparently not. I ran into a much larger group of humans than I anticipated, all of them fully armed and looking for elf blood to spill. I think my stupidity might've actually helped the clan get away without any issues, but that may be wishful thinking.”

“How did you survive against so many soldiers?”

“The will of the Creators? First I ran, and managed to get pretty far before getting captured. They wanted to know where the rest of the clan had gone, so they didn't kill me on sight. I diverted them just enough that by the time they were tired of looking, my clan was safe. They kept me as prisoner, and I started talking about all the skills and talents I had. They thought it was their idea to keep me on as a servant—or rather, more like a trained pet. I'd been feeding them the thought for weeks.”

Nyx was not too surprised to hear that some Orlesian lord was bored enough to torment a group of Dalish in his territory. Though she was disheartened. Still, that must have been a while ago. Maybe hopes that her movements to improve the elven standard of living would spread was not as farfetched as some had predicted.

“I'm sorry,” Nyx said. “That sort of thing… I won't stand for it.”

“An unpopular opinion, among your kind, I'm afraid. But one that I'm sure many in Ferelden are grateful to hear,” Cadmus said.

“There are those that aren't,” Nyx admitted, “but they aren't the ones who matter.”

Cadmus laughed. “Careful, or you may force the nobles to revolt and overthrow you.”

Nyx grimaced. So did Cadmus, as his laugh was dark and grim, rather than light and cheery. Ferelden would have to change over time, rather than overnight. Treason was an extreme measure, but many of the entitled didn't take much pressure to turn to extremes. Loghain and Howe’s actions were proof enough of that.

“Sometimes I think I've only been safe because I slayed the Archdemon,” Nyx said.

“Yes, remembering you as a Hero does make it harder for anyone to go against you, for now. But that memory can fade from the people’s consciousness.”

She had been through many similar conversations with Eamon and Teagan, always with Alistair at her side. Even the most upstanding humans had their shortcomings. Eamon always shifted with such severe discomfort when Nyx asked of the quality with which his elven servants were treated. There weren't many in Redcliffe, but she made a point of asking after them.

At least Cadmus was not opposed to her changes. He was only offering a bit of understanding. Shianni lacked that trait, but in some ways that made her the best for the job. Nyx needed someone to relentlessly push back against limitations. Nyx couldn't just snap at the Arls when they behaved rudely, but Shianni had a little more fire in her.

“You didn't quite finish telling me what happened,” Nyx said, bringing the conversation back to Cadmus' past.

“The rest is quite boring,” Cadmus said, in a way that gave Nyx the feeling it wasn't so much boring as it was something he didn't want to talk about. “I moved from being a servant of those soldiers to servant of their lord, until he decided my vallaslin was too unsightly for his home. I used what coin I had to get to the nearest large settlement, that being Val Royeaux of all places. I was hired on to clean for another rich bastard, there. In my spare time I committed a few petty crimes. Then I met Riordan, who told me about the Wardens and recruited me.”

“I don't think you ever mentioned it was Riordan that recruited you,” Nyx said.

“That's right, you would have met him. He did die in the siege of Denerim, after all. More of us should have been there,” Cadmus said, a bitter edge to his voice.

“Loghain wouldn't have let you,” Nyx said.

“Indeed. And now he suffers as one of us. Cruel irony as punishment seemed an odd choice, but I've heard he has made himself useful. His mind is still sharp enough to plan fairly well.”

“I'd rather he be alive and helpful than dead and turned to useless ash,” Nyx said.

“So it was motivated by practicality?” Cadmus asked.

“Well, not quite,” Nyx said. “It's simply the argument I raise when I hear people disagreeing. It was mostly done because I do believe that if a peaceful solution can be found, it should be followed.”

“And if there isn't such an option?”

Nyx pulled her lips into a fine line. “I kill darkspawn regularly. I have no problem making use of alternative solutions, when needed.”

Cadmus seemed satisfied by this, nodding in understanding. He didn't know the half of what lengths Nyx was willing to go to. Sometimes, neither was she. What lines she was or wasn't willing to draw became harder to define with each passing day. She spared a glance at Cronus at that thought, but pressed on.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

Bandits and wild Sylvans. Of course. That must have been the cause of the chaos around the Pilgrim’s Path. It was all they had encountered since pressing forth into more forested areas where Tevinter ruins lingered. The bandits had even been burning up parts of the area, which resulted in charred Sylvans that still glowed with embers.

Yet, Nyx felt like some account of living trees attacking might have made it back to Madame Woolsey. They would keep looking, for the moment, just to be sure that they didn't leap to conclusions.

Fighting was a lot easier than it had been, at least. They were more capable of acting as a unit, instead of leaping out at their own pace to attack. Demeter and Cronus alike employed both distance spells and up close attacks with their swords. Cadmus and Sigrun worked together, distracting and diverting enemies to control the field. The rest did as they always had, but with more skill. Nyx used her blade more than her bow, but still saw a little use in both.

At last, they were closing in on some of the ruins. It was a good idea to investigate them, once the mystery of the murders had been solved.

It would have to wait.

“Out of my way!” a distressed man declared, attempting to run back over the bridge the group had just crossed. He was dressed in similar armor to the other bandits, but his was tarnished and covered in blood. Plus, his eyes were wide with fear. “I need to get out of here!”

“What’s the matter? What are you running from?” Nyx asked.

“It’s the elf! She makes the trees come alive. All we wanted was some easy money from the caravans, but—” He gasped as thorns rose suddenly on a hill overlooking the path. “Maker help me! She’s here! Got to get away!”

Suddenly, a Dalish elf with blonde hair appeared out of the thicket of thorns, summoned up by her magic. She stood above them on the edge of a cliff, glaring daggers at the bandit who was trying to run. He squealed at the sight of her and bolted past them, stumbling as the Wardens cleared a path for him to flee.

Who was she? A First? A _Keeper?_ This was unexpected.

“Another scavenger here to prey on the misfortune of others?” the elven woman said with a sneer. “No, too well armed. Here for me, then.”

Nyx swallowed. She was Dalish, which meant trust might be earned by showing a sign of kinship. Even if she had flat ears, she could still speak the language.

“ _Andaran atish’an,_ ” Nyx said. “We were unaware there was a clan settled here.”

The elven woman narrowed her eyes. “There is no longer. It is me alone, but do not mistake that as this forest being unguarded. You will not drive me from this place. The other shems could not, and you will fare no better.”

She looked to Cadmus, his clear vallaslin doing little to relax her. Still, it appeared to help a little. Not enough to earn her trust, but a little.

“What happened here, _lethallan?_ All we have seen are bandits and angered sylvans. Have they been the cause of all the trouble here?” Cadmus asked, stepping forward. He shared a look with Nyx, recognizing that a Dalish was more likely to listen to one of their own. Nyx would not argue, despite the pang in her chest.

“Those _bandits_ only followed after others of their kind. The shem merchants stole my sister. Their actions drove me to this!” the elven woman said.

“It was you who has been killing all those people?” Nyx asked, horrified.

That was the wrong thing to say.

“The caravans are only the beginning. I want Seranni returned to me, or…or more will die. Deliver this message,” the elf said. “Consider this a warning.” She rose her hands again, letting herself become entangled in thorny vines yet again. When the vines fell away, she was gone.

“What a warm welcome,” Anders said, rolling his eyes. “And what was with you two and the elven?”

“I know many Dalish who have taught me some of the language. It helps in dealing with the clans, and earning their trust,” Nyx said.

“Well it didn’t work this time,” Oghren grunted.

Cadmus was looking at Nyx, studying her for a moment as if deciding something. However, all he said was, “Even I didn’t seem to have an effect on her. Perhaps I’ve been separated from the clans too long. Strange for her to be alone. With magic she ought to be a First or a Keeper.”

“Sorry, uh, you’re going to need to fill some of us in on what that means, exactly?” Demeter said. “I read a lot in the tower, but the interest in elves was more Finn’s thing.”

“Oh yeah, I remember that kid. He always yelled at me for breaking the spine of old books. Or doodling in the margins,” Anders reminisced.

“The Keeper leads a clan,” Nyx said. “The First is their apprentice. There can also be Seconds, and in rare cases there might be a Third.”

Cadmus nodded, though he’d not lost that quizzical look. “Meaning, they’re important. For her to be here, without her clan…”

Nyx only hoped the rest of them hadn’t died. What had these merchants been doing? She had heard nothing of merchants kidnapping Dalish women before. This might have simply been the first time it had ever happened, and that wasn’t too hard to believe, yet something was still strange about that. Had it been one of the highwaymen, Nyx wouldn’t have batted an eye at the accusation.

They needed the whole story. For that, they would need to find the blonde elf and learn all that she knew about the incident. Maybe there was some detail she was overlooking in her rage. Even if she was right and it _had_ been a merchant, more information could point them in the right direction to find her sister, Seranni.

Hopefully, even though she’d been determined to have them leave, she would still cooperate.

Nyx had them split into two groups, one to head east and the other to search the west half of the Wending Wood. Nyx recalled Wynne’s search for Ines, as well, and was certain to remind Oghren, since he was going in a different group. Just in case he came across her instead.

“And remember,” Nyx said, as stern as possible, “if you see that elven woman again, don’t kill her. We need to find out what she knows.” Best not to spill excess blood, besides. Though Nyx knew not everyone shared that opinion.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

Cronus was delighted with this little stroll through the woods. He plucked up weeds every few steps to add to his odd little leaf crown. The seeds he pocketed, insisting he had a purpose for doing this. No one bothered questioning him further than that, determined to not get involved as much as possible.

Cadmus was still watching Nyx, which she of course noticed and was thoroughly discomfited by. Had it been all the Dalish-isms? She had excuses, and good ones too! Still, he seemed curious about it all. It wasn’t like Nyx had started to tell long stories about Ghilan’nain or Andruil. It wasn’t like she’d started to sing Dalish lullabies. What knowledge she’d shown was reasonable, given that Hera was her friend and Lanaya’s clan was still in close contact with her.

Nyx just wanted him to stop staring!

Nathaniel, on the other hand, was bored. Not that he wasn’t a fan of the woods but...he wasn’t really a fan. He kept, by some unholy kind of chance, stepping in large puddles of mud, even though it was bright and sunny out. Not a storm cloud in sight. It must have been days ago when it rained, and somehow the mud remained. He could do travel, but Nathaniel didn’t like sloshing around in muddy boots and damp socks.

There weren’t too many enemies to worry about, which was a relief. There were a few lingering darkspawn, but they seemed to stick closer to the main path. Maybe the other group was just as lucky.

Further away, there were some artifacts that Cronus wanted to stop and look at. When he somehow managed to set the thing on fire, Nyx almost reached out and pulled him away before he could do anything else, but the fire spread in a particular pattern under his manipulation until it summoned up a chest.

He cheerily pocketed the coin he found in it, and tossed Nyx the necklace.

“It’s enchanted,” Cronus said. “A rather powerful one, too. I figure our brave leader should hold onto that.”

Just touching it Nyx thought the world felt sharper. She had more energy, as well. Somehow it was like it made Nyx more…just _more._ How that made any sense, she couldn’t explain, but she thanked Cronus for that.

“You didn’t, um…” she started to say, but glanced at Nathaniel and Cadmus. She didn’t want to talk about his visions in front of them.

“I didn’t cheat,” Cronus promised. “I just saw that this was here and wanted to fiddle with it.”

Ah. So he’d only gotten the location from being splintered, not the solution. Nyx supposed that was safe enough. The lyrium etched into the necklace wouldn’t explode and burn her skin, anyway.

Not to far from where they’d found the ruins with the necklace, they saw a mage on her knees, digging with her bare hands. Her robes were covered in dirt and grime and she smelled of heavy manures. Nyx tried to resist the urge to pinch her nose, as this was likely their botanist.

The mage turned her head when they got close, the rattling of Nyx’s metal armor gaining her attention. She frowned and glared at their feet.

“You’re standing in my dirt,” she said.

“I’m...sorry?” Nyx said.

“Don’t be sorry, just _move._ ” The mage shooed them, flicking her wrists until the whole group backed up. “Well, it’s not irreparably damaged… That dirt was specially prepared for my plants. I just need the seeds now. It’s just a matter of time, I’m sure.”

“What sort of seeds?” Nyx asked.

“The seeds of the Northern Prickleweed. They are very rare, but hearty, and they’re supposed to be able to grow on blighted ground. Imagine if that were true! They could be the key to rejuvenating the land after a Blight,” the mage said. She smiled a little, at that.

“That would be wonderful,” Nyx agreed. “Pardon me, but would you be Ines the Botanist?”

“You’ve heard of me then. Read one of my books, have you?” Ines said.

“Actually, we’ve a mutual friend. Wynne sends her regards and needs you in Cumberland. She said something about the College of Magi needing a voice of reason,” Nyx said.

Ines snorted. “And she told you to find me? Huh. She must be clutching at straws. It has been some time since the College was called together, but I can’t leave until I have those seeds.”

Which was exactly when Cronus stepped forward, his fist full of those seeds he’d been gathering and head covered in leaves. “You mean _these_ seeds?”

Ines stared down at his open palm with delight. “Maker, you found so many! This will give me more than enough for my research. Well, I suppose then I can go, once these have been planted. I’ll return to check on the crop once everything is said and done in Cumberland.”

“Please, do,” Nyx said. “I’ll write to the king. We’ve been looking for ways to revitalize the land quicker. If this could clear the soil and make it possible for crops to be grown there again, this plant could be invaluable to Ferelden and its people.”

“Friends with the king or something?” Ines asked. “Well, I guess you are Wardens, given the armor you’re wearing, and he was a Warden. Anyway, I’ve a lot to do, so don’t pester me for now. I’ve got seeds to plant and bags to pack, if I’m going to be traveling. Here, a reward for your help.”

She handed over some recipes for poultices and potions that would likely be useful in the future. Cronus pocketed them, then shook the leaves from his head.

“What was that about, anyway?” Cadmus asked him as they were out of earshot of Ines. “The leaves on your head?”

“Oh, I was hoping she’d gape and point and say something dramatic about those being the leaves from the plant she was looking for. It would have been funny, I think,” Cronus said with a shrug.

“Has anyone told you that you have a bizarre sense of humor?” Nathaniel asked.

“Not in so many words, but yes.”

Nyx sighed heavily and kept moving. Now he’d given Cadmus reason to be suspicious of them _both._ How could she be so knowledgeable about the Dalish? How could he have known Ines was looking for the Northern Prickleweed? How could both of these Grey Wardens have fought with the Archdemon and neither them nor Alistair had died?

Cronus was right about the cost of dark magic. The secrets were beginning to exhaust Nyx, just for the effort of keeping them. She would consider telling the truth, had the last time she did that not been quite so disastrous. Things had turned out alright. No, more than alright, Nyx reminded herself. 

She could see no good coming from Cadmus knowing. He owed more loyalty to the Grey Wardens than he did to her. Much as he tried to brush off that comment about using the Orlesian Wardens as a source of information, Nyx knew it had an air of truth to it. Perhaps even more truth than that. Maybe Cadmus wasn’t the spying type, but if he learned something distressing enough to consider it a danger to the order or to Thedas itself, he might report it back.

And what then?

There was a fine line between caution and suspicion, and Nyx was teetering on the edge of it. It was maddening. Cadmus was an ally! She should not have been looking for reasons that he might betray her. She should have been looking for proof that he deserved her trust, instead.

He had told her about his past. If trust went both ways, Nyx owed Cadmus a little for that at the very least. Maybe she couldn’t tell him about having been Dalish. Still, she could at least not suspect him of turning on her at the earliest opportunity.

They next came across two statues, possessed by Avvar warriors whose bodies were long gone. One called for revenge, the other for peace and rest. It was an obvious choice to Nyx, but she wondered what Cadmus would pick. She wanted to know him better. Perhaps she could understand him enough to know more certainly how harshly he might judge her past actions.

“We should calm the angry brother,” Cadmus said, when asked. “Remaining so furious and vindictive has clearly done nothing to help him. The death of the magister didn’t satisfy him. The death of their raised spirit won’t either. Let him rest. It is not fulfillment, but it isn’t suffering, either.”

“I agree,” Nathaniel said. “It seems the kinder choice, for both of them. Odd as this whole scenario is, at least.”

Cronus grumbled. “You’re missing out,” he said quietly. “Avvar swords are pretty nice.”

Nyx, to her best effort, ignored him and shut out his comment. Wasn’t he supposed to be limiting his contribution? Perhaps he’d become so used to it he couldn’t even control himself anymore.

In the end, they convinced the brothers to rest. Maybe one day someone would come across them again, and know how to lift the curse. But at least they would sleep in peace.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

This whole situation was just not good. It was the opposite of good. It was bad. That was what it was.

Demeter was internally screaming as she fired off spells then turned and swung her blade before returning to her spellcasting. Anders was keeping as far as he possibly could from the whole thing, healing and blocking and healing some more. Oghren was bloodied horribly and no one else was sure if he’d even noticed. Sigrun was panting and sweating and cursing under her breath with every enemy that came after her.

Oh, no, they weren’t fighting one thing. They were fighting _many_ things, all at once! All in one clusterfuck of awful that decided to gang up on them and ruin their days. And their days hadn’t been fantastic before, either.

What Demeter wouldn’t give for a day off. Maybe a trip to an Orlesian spa? She heard they had a few odd practices, but that they were ultimately relaxing. Or they could just go back to the Pearl and see if Isabela was still around? Maker, that woman was talented. She would even take a tour of the nearest Chantry while all the Sisters squinted and tried to see if they could catch a sign of magey-ness on her. Something other than being in the bloody Wending Wood fighting bloody living trees!

And darkspawn.

And wolves.

And _spiders!_

Was the Maker just bored and looking for some entertainment? Surely he couldn’t be that cruel.

“Why us?!” Demeter complained.

“Think on the bright side,” Sigrun said, “the Commander is probably having a hard time, too.”

“That’s the _bright_ side?” Oghren said.

Demeter had to concentrate. Fire was best against the Sylvans, and effective on darkspawn and spiders, so fire was the element she focused on. She sent out a spell to coat everyone's weapons in flames, including her own blade. Any darkspawn that got too close was cut down quick as she could manage, but otherwise she stayed far from the main fighting.

She remembered Cronus’ teachings. He was an odd sort, but had given a lot of good advice in between the madness. Or at least, she assumed he was just mad. There could be something more going on, Demeter knew, but what could it possibly be? She didn’t know the man well enough to say.

In any case, his advice helped her. She strafed left then ducked, dodging two different attacks from two different enemies. Demeter loosed a bolt of lightning from the tip of her blade, snapping against a spider’s exoskeleton. It cracked and fizzled from the heat of the surge, leaving the creature hissing in pain and in anger.

Demeter then turned, knowing there was a hurlock that was far too close for comfort. Their swords clashed, and Demeter fought to push the darkspawn backward. It stumbled, leaving itself open for her to cut into the chink of its rusted over armor.

A sylvan rose vines from the ground, like the elf had done before, trapping Demeter’s legs and constricting them. Any more pressure and she was certain her bones would snap. With the utmost focus, Demeter sent heat to her legs and let fire spread out under her. The plants were charred away, and she was freed without further harm.

Ready for revenge, she summoned up more flames and launched them at the tree creature. Its arm was engulfed in the light and heat, which only spread over its wooden body. While it was distracted trying to put out the fire, Oghren was ready to act the part of lumberjack.

This went on for quite a while, and by the time the last enemy fell, the lot of them were exhausted. Anders used the last of his mana reserves to heal everyone before falling back onto his haunches. He was sweaty and panting.

“Why did Nyx think it was a good idea to split up?” he whined, lying down fully. “And she took Nate, too…”

“And now I’m chopped nug livers?” Demeter said, hands on her hips.

“No, no,” Anders said, waving a hand in his denial. “But you’re _here,_ so it would be sort of pointless to miss you.”

“Uh, guys? I think someone is actually alive over here!” Sigrun called.

Demeter looked over to where Sigrun was pointing, and indeed there was a hidden tent with a man inside. It had been well camouflaged, likely the only reason for his survival, given the number of creatures the group had encountered. Demeter helped Anders back to his feet and handed him a small vial of lyrium to get his energy up again, then the two of them hurried to see who the tent belonged to.

They were not sure they would call him lucky. He was alive, sure, but barely. And he was blighted. It must have been days since he got infected, by the state he was in. His skin was horribly discolored and sores had grown around his face and neck. Demeter could see more on his hands when he rose them to shield his weakened eyes from the sunlight they brought in when clearing away some of the bushes that hid him.

“Don’t look...don’t look at me!” he cried. Apparently he wasn’t only shielding himself from the sun.

“It’s alright,” Demeter said gently, kneeling so she was more level with him. “We’re Grey Wardens. We’ve come to help, if we can.”

“What are you doing in a place like this, anyway?” Anders asked.

“Olaf; my name. Came with friends to...to drive out...away the elf. But...the darkspawn were too quick,” he told them. “We were ripped apart; biting claws and teeth from the darkness. And...then I woke. Flesh and bone and gristle under me. Around me. Everyone dead. Dead soft meat melting into the ground. I...I crawled away. Came here. Can’t stand to...see it...”

“Did you see where they were coming from?” Demeter asked. “The darkspawn?”

“Beneath...around...from shadows,” Olaf said.

“It was probably his lot that killed the elves and took that one’s sister,” Oghren grunted, cracking his knuckles.

“No! No. Darkspawn came first,” Olaf insisted. “They slaughtered us...took our steel. Brought it to the elven camp.”

“The darkspawn _framed_ you?” Demeter asked.

“Tricked us, tricked the elf,” Olaf said, nodding in confirmation. “Now, she thinks we are to blame. Hunts all in her rage...while they watch.”

“So all these people died over a...misunderstanding? Maker, that’s horrible!” Anders said. “We have to stop her, tell her she’s wrong!”

“And you actually think she’ll listen?” Oghren said.

“Well it’s better than doing nothing,” Sigrun said.

“We need to find her again,” Demeter said, agreeing with Anders. “We can search more thoroughly. There must be something we’ve missed. Or perhaps Nyx has found her?”

Olaf spoke again, “The dark ones are curious about you, too. They watch you as well as her. Can you feel them?”

Oh, yes. Demeter had gotten the sense that they were being watched ever since they followed that elven woman deeper into the forests. It was those keen darkspawn senses that all Wardens had. Surely the others had noticed as well. It wasn’t the elf alone that was a possible threat, here. Their enemy—the Mother or whoever—likely had some kind of presence here.

“What about you?” Demeter said. “You’re blighted. We can hardly just leave you here.”

“Am already dead. Am already gone. Make...make an end...please.”

Demeter’s brow furrowed. Take a man’s life? Just to end his pain? Perhaps it was the right thing to do, it was what he wanted and it was better quick than slow, but she couldn’t raise her hand and do it. Still, she didn’t want to deny him his last wish.

Her hand trembled as she went for the pommel of her blade, until a gloved hand covered her own. Demeter looked up and met Sigrun’s eyes.

“I used to do this for members of the Legion. Ones who were dead for sure but...not quite there yet. I can help him, too,” Sigrun insisted.

Demeter felt the threat of tears. Why was she so frightened of this? She’d stared the Blight in the face when fighting darkspawn or taking the Joining. But this was so different, somehow. This was the end of hope. No more choices left but to face death, willing or no. This man hadn’t wronged her, but he wanted mercy, and that meant dying, to him.

She nodded and fell back, while Sigrun whispered a few words to the man and gave him a swift end. He breathed his thanks in one final breath, and went off to meet the Maker.

Demeter stood and quietly found Anders’ hand. She needed something to squeeze, and the familiar shape of her friend’s fingers around her palm helped immensely. They shared a glance, understanding the fear that coursed through her. Was this where they were headed? The taint was in them, as it had been in him. Could they really withstand it forever?

“Well, you all want to reason with the crazy bitch, but I think we bypass the chatter and just kill the elf outright. She did plenty of murdering already. I say it’s deserved!” Oghren said.

“She at least deserves a chance,” Demeter said. “She was tricked by darkspawn, and grieving. If we can make her see the truth, she can make amends.”

“If she even _wants_ to see the truth,” Anders mumbled.

They could at least agree that they should find the others first. No more being quite so wildly outnumbered by darkspawn and whatever other manner of beast the forest could dredge up for them to face. They’d had quite enough of that for one day.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got three more chapters in my backlog for this but it's been hard to write so there may be a hiatus at some point. I'm trying my best to avoid that but I felt like I should warn you guys so it isn't sudden if/when that happens.

“Can she sodding quit it with the damn trees?!” Oghren shouted.

Nyx was inclined to agree. Though it looked like the degree of urgency her friends had was exacerbated by recent bouts of their own. Nyx’s group had only faced a small group of darkspawn. While there had been an emissary, which was a difficult thing to face, it looked like Demeter and the rest had been through a lot more than that. Anders even flinched a little when Sunburst came to greet them all.

“Good...wolfie,” he said carefully. “No biting.”

“Sunburst would never bite unless threatened,” Cadmus said. “She isn’t so wild as the rest of the wolves here. Besides, it seems the ones you encountered may have been infected with the taint. It alters their nature.”

Perseus didn’t receive any flinching, though Nyx swore she heard plaintive meows when he drew near. “Is...Ser Pounce with us?” she asked.

“Well of course! You didn’t think I’d just leave him behind, did you?” Anders said, clinging what Nyx now saw was an oddly lumpy part of his robes.

“Actually…” Nyx began.

“You bring your dog! I don’t see the problem here,” Anders said.

“Percy can defend himself. He’s a wardog,” Nyx said. Perseus barked in agreement.

“Well Ser Pounce-a-Lot scratched a darkspawn’s cheek once. Drew blood and everything,” Anders said.

“Not to imply that this isn’t important, but there are things that are actually a matter of life and death at hand?” Nathaniel said, sighing.

Everyone was quick to agree with that. They shook off the jitters from the last fight and regrouped. They needed to track the elf down. Cadmus and Nyx agreed that she was most likely to not stray far from the Dalish encampment, even if she was the only one left in her clan. Any chance of there being halla left or aravels meant the area was still precious.

Nyx knew she was still being observed by the Orlesian Warden, but tried to ignore it as much as possible. If it was necessary to speak with him, she assumed she knew him well enough that he would wait until they could talk privately. Which meant all the way back in Vigil’s Keep, once the situation in the Wending Wood had been handled.

The camp was not difficult to find, as it turned out. Nyx let Cadmus take the lead, even though she recognized the signs of Dalish settling as well as he did. She didn’t want to arouse any more suspicion than she already had.

There were still a number of aravels, and thankfully not too many graves. That there were any broke Nyx’s heart, and took her thoughts to funeral rites and Falon’din, but that there were few meant most of the clan had not simply died. They must have been able to flee and find refuge away from the Wending Wood and the darkspawn.

The blonde elf was crouching over the graves when they found the camp. She startled at the sound of their approach, leaping from the spot and edging towards the cliff. She held up her staff and called up a barrier. She was too exhausted to attack anymore, and could only defend herself for what she assumed was going to be an attack.

“You...you will never take me alive,” she said through clenched teeth.

“We don’t wish to kill you, _lethallan,_ ” Cadmus said.

“Then will you let me go? For the sake of our people and what we share?” she said, eyes fixing solely on him.

“Not yet. There are things we need to talk about,” Cadmus said.

The elven woman laughed bitterly. “Talk?”

“You need to know the truth,” Nyx said, stepping forward. The elf’s gaze grew cold as it turned to acknowledge her, but Nyx did her best to ignore the chill in her spine. “It was the darkspawn that attacked, not the humans. They set all of this up to trick both groups. To make you blame one another and kill each other.”

“Darkspawn? Since when are they intelligent enough for plotting like that? The humans should have just left us alone. Then none of this ever would have happened,” she insisted.

“The humans were already wiped out by darkspawn forces. They couldn’t have done this,” Cadmus said. “Look at the way the weapons have been discarded, all in one place in plain sight. It’s not normal for people to just leave their swords and daggers lying about in a pile after a fight. They’ve been planted here to mislead you.”

“So you claim that the darkspawn killed my people? That darkspawn took Seranni?” she said, her anger rising.

“Yes,” Nyx said.

“One of them was holding this,” Demeter said, hurrying forward with something clutched in her palm. “I found it on the body of one of the alphas. It looked valuable but some of the symbols here look Dalish, too.”

The blonde elf held out her hand to take the charm, examining the carved metal. “This...this is Seranni’s. She would never willingly part with that; our mother gave it to her before she died.” She tightened her fist around the trinket. “Why would the darkspawn do this?”

“I don’t know, but I intend to find out,” Nyx said. “Will you help us? We may even find your sister.” It was a slim chance, she knew it too well, but they had to try. Nyx would not abandon someone who needed her.

“You would let me? After what I’ve done to you?” the elf said. Still skeptical, she looked to Cadmus, who only nodded. “Yes, I will do what I can. I can show you where the darkspawn have been hiding.”

Oghren grumbled some complaint, but it went without acknowledgement.

“I’d like to properly introduce myself, while we have a moment,” Nyx said. “I am Nyx, Warden Commander of Ferelden. This is Cadmus, a fellow Warden from Orlais. The rest are recent recruits. Nathaniel, Anders, Demeter, Oghren, and Sigrun.”

“I am Velanna,” the elf said, standing stiffly. “For a shemlen you keep such mixed company.”

“I’m no ordinary shem,” Nyx said.

This only earned another suspicious glare, and a look from Cadmus. Being around Dalish elves made hiding so much harder.

“That remains to be seen,” Velanna said, though she didn’t seem quite as scrutinizing as Nyx might have expected. Maybe something had gotten through to her after all.

They spoke a little on the way, and learned that Velanna had been the Keeper of her clan. She would not actually refer to it in the past tense, even though Nyx knew that her First must have taken over when the rest fled. A Keeper went where the clan did, and would not stay behind. A Keeper would not incite violence so recklessly, either.

Nyx was able to read between every line of what Velanna admitted to. She was certain Cadmus would notice it all, as well. There were some things the Dalish just would not do, and everything about Velanna’s situation was strange. The involvement of the darkspawn notwithstanding.

There were a few darkspawn outside of the ruins where Velanna said they’d been hiding, but once those were cleared, there were none inside that any of them could see or even sense. Nyx could feel them further off, like they were waiting for something. She silently alerted everyone to be on their guard, ready for a trap. Even Perseus lowered his stance, ears pinned back while he released a low and steady growl.

They were not kept waiting long, but the sort of trap that was sprung wasn’t one anyone thought to anticipate. The group had stepped onto a large glyph covered in intricate symbols. It was so much stronger than any magic of that sort that Nyx had ever encountered before. She felt instantly woozy.

A voice whispered softly in her mind, reminding her so much of Sloth. _Shhh...sleep… I apologize for what I must do. I do not wish to be your enemy. But now is not the time for this. Rest…_

Her eyes closed, and she fell back.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

Nyx’s body did not ache or feel sore. In fact, she felt like she’d gotten a good amount of sleep. If it weren’t for her suddenly exposed skin and the fact that she’d been lying on a cot on the ground behind the bars of a cell, it might have been a nice way to wake up. Unfortunately, this was far from nice.

She’d woken in her smallclothes, the rest of her companions in varying states of undress. Thankfully, only the pups were fully nude, though they had been trapped in a cage of their own across the room. Perseus and Sunburst howled with complaint and worry for their masters.

Nyx looked around to see who was nearest. With her were Cadmus and Velanna, both of whom were already awake. To her left, Nathaniel was still unconscious, though Anders and Sigrun were watching over him. Ser Pounce-a-Lot had not been separated like the other pets (and thankfully, not eaten either) and was lying on Nate’s chest, purring without a care in the world.

To Nyx’s right were the other three, with only Cronus awake. He was watching over Demeter with a thick furrow to his brow, like a concerned father. Oghren’s sleeping form went ignored.

“Is everyone alright?” Nyx asked no one in particular.

Velanna sucked her teeth. “We've been captured by darkspawn. Of course we're not alright!”

“No one is dead,” Cronus said. “And he healed any lingering injuries. Even Demeter’s legs have been healed.”

“Demi was hurt?” Anders asked, startled. He looked terrified, already very concerned over Nathaniel.

“One of the Sylvans sprained one of her bones. I'm not sure how much she noticed with the adrenaline,” Cronus said.

Apparently Anders hadn't noticed, either, or it would have been healed already. He looked guilty, since he was the Creation specialist for that group. For him to have overlooked an injury was like he was neglecting Demeter’s pain, even if she never complained about it.

“Who healed us?” Nyx asked.

“The Architect. He put us here, too,” Cronus said. “I had hoped I could resist the sleep spell, but he's strong. Too strong. He's…blocking me out.”

Nyx paled. “Like Flemeth?”

“What are the two of you going on about?” Velanna interrupted. “We need to get out of here!”

The person who approached their cell had Velanna snapping her jaw shut instantly. “Seranni?” she said, aghast. “Oh Creators, what have they done to you?”

She looked normal, at first glance. Nyx could see her vallaslin decorated face and braided hair, done in a Dalish style. Past these things, Nyx saw Seranni’s eyes, which had turned a milky white. Like the Archdemon’s eyes. Like she was blighted.

Still, there were no sores or lesions and she didn’t seem sick. She didn’t appear to be in perfect health, either, but she was at least not weak or hobbling. Seranni stood tall, though nervous.

“They haven’t done anything. I...I’m fine, Velanna,” she insisted. Seranni looked behind her for a moment. “It’s not me he wants. I have to get you out before something bad happens. I don’t want anyone else to be hurt.”

“Yes, alright,” Velanna said, holding onto the bars in front of her. “Let me out and I’ll take you home.”

Seranni didn’t answer her directly. She was looking, instead, to Nyx. “The darkspawn have your things. You can still get it all back if you’re careful and clever. They’re going to come to check on you, so you have to hurry.”

“Do you know anything about what’s going on? Please, tell us if you know,” Nyx said.

“I don’t know anything!” Seranni insisted, shaking her head. “But take this key. It...it opens a chest in the emissary’s room. Maybe you’ll find some answers there.”

“How did you get this? Do you know what’s in there?” Nyx asked.

“I don’t. I don’t know,” Seranni said, looking behind her again. “They’re coming. You have to go, find a way out of these mines. Please!”

“I can’t just—” Velanna started to say, but her sister was running away, a ring of keys dashed at Nyx’s feet. “Seranni, wait!” Velanna was still clinging to the bars, shoving her body up against them as if she could melt between them.

“We’ll get to her, Velanna. But we have to save ourselves, first,” Cadmus said.

Nyx snatched up the keys and found one to fit the lock in front of her, freeing them. Nathaniel was starting to wake up, as were Oghren and Demeter. The commotion was rousing everyone, and the pups’ barking worsened.

Nyx had no idea what she had in mind, but she was moving towards the sound of approaching darkspawn. In nothing but her smalls, she was light on her feet and quiet. She used the stealth to her advantage, with Cadmus just behind her. (He'd had the good fortune of being given a pair of slacks.)

There was a fair sized rock on the floor, and Nyx picked it up to use as a makeshift weapon. Cadmus swept some dust up into his palm. Velanna was preparing a spell, charging up her mana.

The darkspawn that rounded the corner had no idea what had hit them. Nyx smashed the rock into a hurlock’s skull until he fell. The genlock archer faced Velanna and her vine magic, tangled first, then impaled. The second hurlock was distracted by the cloud of dust that filled his eyes and blocked his vision, leaving him open while Cadmus attacked.

It took longer than it would have with weapons, but the monsters fell.

There was some light cheering from the still closed cells. Nyx hurried back to let everyone out, as well as Sunburst and Perseus.

“We've no armor or weapons. How will we fight through an entire mine of darkspawn?” Nathaniel asked.

“Carefully,” Nyx said.

“These ones have weapons and armor. We can make due with what's available here for now,” Cadmus suggested.

Nyx nodded. It was smart. Better gear that didn't quite suit them than no gear at all. “Let's prioritize anyone who needs to fight up close. Anders, Demeter, Cronus, and Velanna don't need staves to work magic, correct?”

The mages answered the affirmative.

“Good,” Nyx said. She got to work distributing what was available, moving as quickly as she could. These darkspawn were not the mindless kind they had faced in the past. They would notice that three of their number had gone to check and not returned.

There was enough there to outfit Nyx and Oghren almost fully. The worst part was that all of them were in barefeet. The three elves didn't seem bothered by it, but everyone else felt the need to have something. Even Nyx. Something about human feet just made them more tender and made them require the covering. But there were only three pairs of boots among them.

As for weapons, there was one large sword, a smaller one handed blade, two daggers, and a bow. The bow automatically went to Nathaniel, who wore a grim expression as he studied the shoddy craftsmanship of the darkspawn. He was surely missing his grandfather's enchanted bow, with its infinite arrows. The two daggers were split between Cadmus and Sigrun, who each had to figure out which hand to place it in. Sigrun used her right, and Cadmus his left.

Nyx settled for the smaller blade. She missed Stargazer and Moonbeam terribly, but she also had training in this kind of weaponry. She even found a shield, so she could defend as well as attack. Oghren didn't have the noble training she did, so he was better off with the two-handed weapon he was used to. (Even though he preferred axes.)

Cadmus also spied a room just ahead that looked unoccupied, and went with Sigrun to check it out in stealth. They returned with armor for themselves, so no one fighting up close had to be exposed. Nyx was relieved that between all of them, no one else had to fight in their small clothes that day. That was an experience she would rather not relive.

They were finally ready to move out. Nyx was careful with every move, commanding them where necessary. There was a trebuchet rather conveniently placed so they could take out a few hurlocks without getting close, then release smoke bombs for a sneak attack. There was an emissary among that group, which caused a short squabble between all the mages about who would take the staff.

Nyx ended up stepping in to point out that any darkspawn weapons likely carried some taint on them. Velanna made a face at that and let Anders and Demeter duke it out. Cronus was happier with his sword, and didn't get involved. In the end. Anders took the staff and Demeter got another one of the blades.

“I want my shit back,” Demeter complained.

No one disagreed.

For some, the wait didn't last long. They soon ran into more people like Seranni, who appeared to be blighted, but only mildly. Something made them more immune to it, able to live with the consequences. For long, Nyx couldn't say for sure, but she remembered the days she'd spent before taking the Joining her first time.

It had been a struggle with her declining health, and Duncan reminded her how lucky she was to have had Marethari around to care for her. Had her Keeper not been such a talented healer, Nyx would have died long before making it to Ostagar. And she never would have met Alistair. Or any of her friends. She certainly wouldn't have been able to do it all again.

So that these people showed few signs of being tainted was remarkable. Whoever was behind all of this has to know some of the same magics that Marethari had wielded. Dalish? Not likely. But ancient, absolutely.

Oghren was more enthused about the fact that one of the blighted people was a dwarf with his armor. Perhaps not at first, when he was more angry to see it stolen. Once the man was dead, however, Oghren was practically hugging his axe. Demeter and Sigrun were also lucky, seeing that two others had been experimented on and given their things.

“Feels good to be back,” Sigrun said, tossing Cadmus the spare darkspawn dagger.

“Let's keep moving. It looks like they've been outfitted with our weapons and armor,” Nyx said. “It's possible we can find everything before were out of here.”

Nathaniel was still anxious about his bow being in the hands of darkspawn. Thankfully, the next group they encountered included an elven woman, who was not quite suited to wear his armor, even though it had been put on her.

“That belongs to the Howes,” Nathaniel said, teeth grit in anger. The elf was the first to fall, with an arrow between her eyes.

Cronus also received his things, seeing a man who looked more sickly than the rest had wearing his lighter armor and carrying his sword. His staff had simply been given to a darkspawn emissary.

“The idiots don't even know what they were given,” Cronus said. “Are we sure they're more intelligent than the rest of their kin?”

Nathaniel rolled his eyes at the comment, and Nyx knew better than to encourage him. Velanna might have taken the bait, if not for the sounds of grunting and pained groans coming from a path off the side.

They followed the sounds and found a man in Grey Warden armor, back leaned against a wall with a wound opened wide in his stomach. There was no chance he would make it home with the rest of them. Nyx winced, knowing he would have been one of her men. She wished she'd been there just a bit sooner. Maybe she couldn't have saved them all, but…

No, it didn't do to dwell on the past. She knew better than that, now.

Nyx knelt in front of the man. “What is your name, Warden?” she asked.

“Keenan,” he replied, pausing to cough. “I was at Vigil’s Keep when it was attacked. You have to help… If anyone is left alive they will need help.”

Nyx shook her head. “That was weeks ago. I'm the new Commander of the Grey.”

“Queen Theirin” he asked, a bit starry-eyed. “I thought I wouldn't get the chance to thank you for what you've done, after that attack. But…weeks, you said? Maker, how have I been down here so long? I don't even know how I could have survived I…” He looked up at the ceiling for a moment, until his gaze hardened. “These darkspawn, they're lead by an emissary. He's done something to them, I don't know what or how, but he's started to spread the treatment to people, humans and elves and dwarves. They follow him. They believe in him and they're trying to help with whatever he's planning.”

“Do you know anything else?” Cadmus asked, leaning in.

Keenan shook his head. “They knew I wasn't… I'm a Grey Warden, so whatever they've done to the others couldn't be repeated. They didn't bother leaving me for long. Though, longer than I would have guessed, if the Keep was attacked weeks ago.”

“Anders, could you at least ease his pain?” Nyx asked, turning back to him.

But Keenan put a hand around her wrist. “No…Commander, don't waste any resources on me. I'm already dead. If I might ask one thing, there is a darkspawn. Burly. Unnatural. He took my wedding ring. I don't know what he would do with it but…it should go to my wife. Nida, in Amaranthine. He's strong, but if anyone can take him down, it must be you. Get the ring back and take it to my wife. Tell her that…that I died trying to protect this land that is our home. So she can have a future.”

Nyx was then very close to getting teary eyed. “I will.”

“Thank you. For all you've done.” Those were his last words, as his head rolled back and his eyes slowly shut.

“May you go to the Maker’s side,” Nyx said softly. He was human, so Andrastian was a safe bet.

“His last thought was of his wife,” Anders said. “That some kind of tragic romance, there.”

Demeter nodded in agreement. “I hate that we have to go and break some stranger’s heart.”

“Unless she was unfaithful,” Oghren grunted.

“How could you even suggest that?” Demeter chided.

“He was a Warden,” Oghren said. “I don't see any of us running home to someone every night. We chose duty over romance! She might be glad to know he's gone, since she won't be tied down at all.”

“Vile,” Velanna said, “though not a bad guess.”

Nyx suddenly wondered what happened with Oghren and Felsi, though she knew it wasn't the appropriate time to bring it up. In any case, it sparked a momentary debate over love, which Nyx was happy to stay out of. She knew where she stood on the importance of it. She perhaps knew a little _too_ well, given how far she’d gone to keep it. Cadmus walked beside her, ahead of the rest.

“I know this may be a tad personal, but I’m curious: was your marriage to King Alistair purely a political move? Others in Orlais have speculated it was just a means of giving the Grey Wardens more power, and even suggested a similar approach with Celene. Of course, I doubt she would be interested in one of the order,” Cadmus said.

“Even if Alistair hadn’t been Maric’s son, I would have wanted to marry him. I was his friend before I knew who he was, and loved him before I knew he had a chance of gaining the throne. We were just...lucky,” Nyx said.

Luck had very little to do with it, she knew. After all she and the Changeling had orchestrated together, luck wasn’t exactly a factor. Though she did thank whatever forces in the world brought him back to her, when he had every right to despise her.

“That’s good, I guess,” Cadmus said. “Can’t relate, but it’s good.”

“You don’t have someone back in Orlais?” Nyx asked.

“Nope. Never had, even,” Cadmus said. “Honestly, I sometimes don’t even believe people when they say they’re in love. I can see that you get a different look about you, when you talk about him. But I can’t say I’ve ever felt that way about someone, myself.”

“Maybe you just haven’t met someone worth the feeling?” Nyx suggested.

Cadmus wrinkled his brow. “No. I just don’t grow attached to people like that. I have friends, I have Sunburst, that’s all I need.”

Nyx didn’t respond for a while. Her experience had been that she never loved anyone until Alistair. She’d never wanted anyone the way she wanted him. It wasn’t really her place to judge whether or not Cadmus would have a similar experience. Considering the crazy things she’d done for the sake of her heart, maybe it was better that he didn’t. Though even if he did find some romantic partner, he seemed like he had his head on straighter than Nyx did to begin with.

“If you’re happy that way, then I’m glad,” Nyx said.

“Well, not at the moment,” Cadmus said. “But once we’re out of the abandoned, darkspawn infested mine, with all of our belongings back in hand, I’m sure my mood will be greatly improved.”

Nyx giggled. “Fair enough.”

They did indeed retrieve Keenan’s ring, as well as everyone else’s gear. Everyone else, save for Nyx. Perseus whined, sensing that her anxiety had grown. She patted his head.

“We’ll find it somewhere, I’m certain. Even these darkspawn clearly know the value of weapons and armor,” she said, more to herself than to Perseus. The reasoning helped a little. Though only a little.

Finally, after many more exhausting fights, they found the room that Seranni had mentioned, including the chest that she’d had the key for. Nyx cracked it open, curious but cautious. Inside were a number of papers, most of them nonsensical or damaged by time. The one on top was legible, addressed to someone named “Utha.”

_Utha,_

_I know this has tested your patience. You first gave your blood years ago to further our common dream. I know at times it seems we're going nowhere. Trust me, Utha, I echo your frustration. Vigil's Keep was a setback, yes, but minor. I intend to keep my promise to you._

_Perhaps you should venture above ground. The greenery and fresh air would do your spirit good._

“‘Gave your _blood?_ ’” Nyx wondered aloud.

“What?” Anders asked.

Nyx recounted the letter for the rest of them. “Is Utha a darkspawn? This can’t have been perpetuated by Wardens, but taking blood… Whose blood seems to be the important detail we’re missing, here.”

“Utha, was it?” Cadmus said. “That sounds familiar, but I can’t place it.”

“Every clue we’ve been getting only leads to more questions,” Demeter said in frustration.

“For now that we have any information is something,” Nyx said. “But there’s nothing else of note here. We should move on, and get out of this place.”

But Cronus pushed past her, digging a hand into the box and retrieving a ring and another paper. Nyx rose a brow, watching him. He showed it to her, tapping under a name. Most of it was too damaged to be legible, but she could see the name clearly. _Fiona._

“Who is that?” Nyx asked. Her voice dropped a little, some part of her recognizing that this was based on Cronus’ visions.

“Someone very important. I’ll let you know more, later. Just remember the name, for now,” Cronus said. He had that smile that Nyx hated. It was a twist of cocky and malicious, that left an unsettling feeling in her belly. She looked away and ignored it, even as she committed that name to memory.

A few of her growing anxieties were eased down as they found another chest, full of their potions and supplies. Beside it, cast into a corner, were Nyx’s armor and weapons. She could not think of another time that she had stripped down so quickly in front of a bunch of other people. Her heart slowed back to a more standard pace as she gripped Stargazer in her hands.

“Odd that the darkspawn didn’t use your things,” Nathaniel noted.

“Think of it this way: who would be the equivalent of a boogeyman to the darkspawn other than the person who killed their Archdemon?” Cronus said.

“That’s ridiculous,” Anders said. “Even if they did know that those belonged to her, it’s not like they’d just leave them because of that.”

Nyx wanted to agree with Anders, but it was odd. Cronus’ theory might not have been so ridiculous (especially given that his mind was privy to more information than the rest of them). Stargazer had also been the blade to kill Urthemiel. If nothing else, she could understand them leaving her blade. But her armor…?

There was a qunari in the same room, who—despite his size—nearly went unnoticed. He had been rather quiet, Nyx supposed. Apparently he was a merchant, kept by the darkspawn for his trade. Yet another sign that these darkspawn were different from those that Nyx was used to. She invited the Qunari to return to the Keep to trade there, certain that it would please Mistress Woolsey.

After the rise in optimism, it only made sense for a more challenging encounter to block their path. It seemed that a couple of young drakes had made their homes here, and were unhappy with the disturbance of the group. Nyx took her invigorated spirit from regaining her belongings, and rushed in to battle them.

Everyone else was of a similar mind, and despite the toughness of the twin drakes, the group proved themselves capable and ended things quickly. They were, after all, fully equipped again, and more desperate than ever to get out of that damned place.

They were beginning to relax, when Nyx heard Velanna shouting.

“Seranni?!” she called.

Nyx followed her gaze in time to see her sister from before, as well as a dwarven woman and a… Could that still be called a darkspawn? It looked nothing like the darkspawn Nyx knew, though that was just as true of the Children they’d encountered in the Deep Roads. This, however, was dressed almost regally.

It… _he_ stood tall, a mask over his eyes. Nyx still felt like he was watching her, even though he should not have been able to see. He put his long-fingered hand on Seranni’s shoulder and urged her away. Velanna could do nothing but stare in horror as her sister and the dwarven woman followed the creature out of the room. He used magic to create a focused collapse of the tunnel behind them, blocking the path with rubble.

Velanna shook her head in disbelief. “No… Why is she with that monster?!” she said, turning to Nyx. She stopped for a moment, reconsidering, and focused on Cadmus instead. “We must get to her!”

“We’ll find another way,” Nyx said.

“They’re darkspawn. They’ll head underground, to the Deep Roads. They always do,” Oghren said.

“The home of the children of the Stone. Yes…” Velanna said. “They say Wardens can sense darkspawn even deep beneath the ground. I would join the Grey Wardens! Give me the ability to hunt down these monsters in the Deep!”

Nyx was honestly surprised at the turn. Especially since the attention had returned to her. Velanna might not have liked it, but she could at least recognize that Nyx was in charge. This decision fell to her.

Though that didn’t mean she would decide without advisement. She looked to Cronus for a second, but he made no motion one way or another. Nyx remembered their discussion about Mhairi, and lowered her head. Was it truly better to leave this to chance? What if things really _did_ go wrong?

Nyx closed her eyes and breathed. She couldn’t lose her head over uncertainties. That was how everyone else lived, making choices even if they didn’t understand the consequences just yet. There was no predicting if Velanna would survive the Joining. No knowing if she would be useful or a hinderance to the Grey Wardens. No telling if she would stay, even if she realized what Nyx already had.

Seranni was a lost cause.

“The Joining could kill you,” Nyx warned. Let her decide if the risk was worth it.

“I am not afraid of death,” Velanna said. She was earnest and determined. “I will pledge my service to you in exchange for the power your order can grant. What say you?”

Nyx could ask for little more from a recruit, she supposed. “Very well,” she said. “Welcome to the Grey Wardens.”

“Ma serannas,” Velanna said, still roughly. “Shall we go then? I’ve had enough of this place.”

“What? _Really?!_ With that reasoning?” Anders said, gaping.

Velanna narrowed her eyes. “I believe this is the choice of your _Commander,_ shem.”

“Yeah, but Nyx is too nice to really say no when someone really wants something,” Anders argued. “This is really not a great idea. Just putting that out there.”

“I dunno,” Demeter said, tapping her chin, “it was getting to be a bit of a sausage fest.”

Anders groaned. “That isn’t a better reason, Demi.”

But Demeter only chuckled and started out with Nyx and Velanna. “Last one out of the mines sets up the other person’s tent!” she declared.

Anders was apparently easily manipulated when challenged like that, as he started speeding towards the exit. In the end, he still lost, but it got him out much more quickly than he would have moved with all his griping.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

Cadmus had spent the past few hours speaking with Velanna. While Anders hadn’t approached the subject in the most delicate way, he rose a legitimate concern. Cadmus took it upon himself to let Velanna know more about the Wardens, and all that was involved in Joining the order and being a part of it.

To her credit, she took it all in stride. He suspected Nyx had seen this same dedication, beneath the immediate desire of having any power necessary to help her sister. Cadmus decided he would have made the same choice, in Nyx’s position.

Once Velanna had gone to sleep, Cadmus found Nyx poking at the dying campfire. He settled beside her, uncertain of how to ask the wild question on his mind. At least, how to ask it without sounding like he was either foolish or accusing her of something.

“You really are quite knowledgeable about the Dalish,” Cadmus began.

He watched her reaction carefully. She tended to get this hardened look when she prepared to lie. It was easy to miss, but definitely there. Nyx startled first before settling back into that state, prepared to say whatever she needed to get rid of him. Cadmus wouldn’t let go that easily, however.

“I’ve been dealing with most of the clans within Ferelden borders to grant them land rights,” Nyx said. “And I did already tell you about Hera, I believe. Not all humans are so unaware of the struggle of the elvhen.”

“Even there,” Cadmus noted, “you didn’t call us elven, but _elvhen._ Subtle, but different enough.”

“I try to be respectful and acknowledge the culture,” Nyx said. “ _Your_ culture.”

“You said if King Alistair had been of low birth, you would have still loved him. What if he had been an elf?”

Nyx blanched. She was so pale already, he hardly believed it possible, but there she was with the color fading from her cheeks.

“Things might have… I don’t know. Probably. We would be assuming that he were otherwise the same man,” Nyx said. “So, yes.”

“He wouldn’t have been some knife ear to you?”

“I would never!” Nyx insisted, reeling on him. “Not ever.”

Cadmus knew he was pushing it a bit far, but he had to know what it was she was hiding. There was something about her that wasn’t right, that was never right. The way she had studied his face when they first met, or the way that she looked so sad when Velanna called her “shem.” It wasn’t the offended look Cadmus would expect from some insulted noble. Instead Nyx looked like her heart was breaking.

“What about you, then?” Cadmus tried. “If you had been some elf and him a king, would you—”

Nyx stood. “Stop.”

“I was only—”

“No.” She looked almost frightening, with the low light of the flame emphasizing the shadows of her face. Lit from underneath, her honey eyes looked a lot more threatening than Cadmus was used to seeing. “Whatever you are getting at, I don’t want to hear it.”

He should have given up. That was what he was thinking at that moment, though he would not regret continuing later. One last push. Just one last try, then he’d apologize and quit.

“Insulted that I would make you think of yourself like one of us?”

Nyx tensed. Not angry like she’d been moments ago, but genuinely hurt. She turned her face from him, but Cadmus still caught the glimmer of tears pooling under her eyes.

“You know nothing of me,” Nyx said, her voice breaking. She fell back to sitting. “Nothing of what I’ve given. Nothing of the guilt I live with.”

“So tell me,” Cadmus said, making an attempt to be gentler. “You are my Commander, and maybe that means I should follow you no matter who you are. And do not mistake, I _will_ do just that. Even if you have done something monstrous. But I like to think that the same trust I give my Commander is given back to me, in turn.”

She wouldn’t look at him. Or couldn’t, maybe. But eventually, after long and shaky breaths, Nyx spoke.

“You asked what I would have done had I been an elf and him a king,” Nyx said. “I already know the answer, far too well…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bit about Nyx fighting in her smalls is based on [real game hiccups](http://theramblinggirl.tumblr.com/post/133422608939/theramblinggirl-theramblinggirl-screams) [that actually happened.](http://theramblinggirl.tumblr.com/post/133427961129/adventures-of-a-nudist-warden-if-you-havent-seen) First, in the dungeon where you fight Howe, I could not equip Alistair properly in my first run because I had used a glitch to get him to wear stuff above his stats, but didn't have the item to repeat that glitch with me. Second, due to another glitch in Awakening (not something I exploited just one that I ran into) I have to unequip my character before I enter the mines, otherwise anything I have on my character won't show up in the box like it's supposed to.
> 
> So I wanted to include that to call back to actual gameplay experiences I had. I try to do that when I can cause it's fun.
> 
> Also yeah Cadmus is aro/ace. Thought I’d just slide that detail in cause he’s my boy. And Nyx is demi! Fun facts.


	10. Kinship

It was remarkable to see the growth in Demeter’s abilities. Cronus knew he had been right to tutor her to use a blade. He was even contemplating adding a shield into the mix, so she might masquerade as an ordinary soldier more effectively. She had already taken to wearing Grey Warden armor, and not the shabby robes she’d run around in previously. It would suit certain lifestyles quite well, including one in particular that he had in mind.

Not that she needed to know about that, yet.

Still, Demeter had proven worthy of his time. More than worthy, really, though he didn’t know another word to describe it. Cronus would reject any idea that there was some sort of real sentimentality growing in him, because those feelings were reserved for Morrigan and his son only.

If only Nyx would quit asking about what his “intentions” with her were. No one said Cronus needed to intend _anything_ with Demeter. Though he did have plans. Somehow, plans were not the same as intentions. They were more concrete.

Not that his mind always saw it that way. Damn thing could barely keep itself together most of the time. He managed to keep it together when he needed to, but he was starting to confuse which time he was actually in. Which events he'd actually experienced versus just having seen them. It wasn't helping with his trials to see how changing history would affect the world.

His biggest test of that would be Demeter. Her very existence. But not yet. For now, she just needed to be able to hold a sword and stand against her enemies. She would keep her focus on that.

Except for those times that she returned to him with questions.

“Come on, Cronus. You could not have reacted that quickly to keep it from hitting him. You _knew_ something was going to happen. Knew Oghren would get upset and chuck a stale bread roll,” Demeter said. She was persistent, he'd credit her on that.

“Yes. Truly I must be like the Rivaini Seers for predicting that even tempered Oghren would pitch a fit because kind and non-obnoxious Anders would say something to annoy him,” Cronus said, rolling his eyes.

“Okay, well what about the phylacteries?”

“You always bring that up. And I've told you, you don't know that I wasn't just saying that to screw with you.”

“But you knew it was a trap!”

Cronus rose his hands in the air. “Ladies and gentlemen, people come from near and far to see the amazing, the stupendous…Cronus the states-the-obvious man!”

Demeter tried not to laugh, which made her face twist awkwardly as she fought her smile. “Just tell me. Why don't you want me to know when I already _know?_ ”

Cronus put his face in his hands, and dragged them down. “Because most of the story isn't my secret to tell. I just come in near the end and become the more interesting part.”

“Then tell me the ending,” Demeter said.

“You mean tell you the punchline before you know the joke? The twist before the set-up? It doesn't work that way,” Cronus said.

“Sure it does. You can make it.”

“You will only have more questions. Which will only be more annoying.”

“But at least there will be some variety, right? Instead of the same one over and over,” Demeter argued.

Cronus contemplated. He would have to tell her eventually, for all that he needed her for. Knowing that Cadmus was handling Nyx's secrets well was encouraging. Perhaps Demeter was ready, as well.

But much as he knew he wanted certain things for her, Cronus was also tempted to shield her from them. With all the potential for things to go wrong, it would be risky no matter how prepared she was. Cronus could, however, decrease the risk. Just a little. Her understanding would be vital.

Cronus had not meant to, but he cared for Demeter. He wanted to look after her. It made his plans harder to complete, but easier. He could trust her. She was strong and capable and sharp.

“Alright,” he relented at last. “You want to know how I can predict things the way I do?”

“Yes,” Demeter said.

“I was splintered. My mind it…separates. Down different paths and possibilities of time. I can see the past and the future, all mere potentials. Our history is not written, but constantly forming as we act. My choice to tell you now means I cannot reveal this in the same way later. In our path, this is now set. It is past. But I can also see myself walking away from here; another choice I could have made.”

Demeter stared, processing all he had explained. “But…how? I've never heard of that kind of magic.”

“The amount of magic the Chantry does not teach could fill the Waking Sea. And then some. I've been teaching you some already, haven't I? What Circle mage can wield a blade?”

“Then this was something you learned?” Demeter asked.

“Not exactly,” Cronus said. “It was something that was done to me. A mage who called himself the Changeling broke my mind. But Nyx killed him before he could do more harm than that.”

“So she knows about this.”

Cronus nodded.

“That's why she keeps going to you! Because you can see the future!”

“Again, potential futures. It isn't so simple as viewing fixed points and following them like a map,” Cronus said. “And unlikely futures can be almost impossible to see.”

“Does that mean the most likely path is clearer?”

“Yes, though it can be hard to tell sometimes between two or three very likely choices. Coin flips, for example, are impossible. It's easier when decisions are involved, not mere chance. Even then the variables are ever changing,” Cronus said, thinking of Mhairi.

Demeter paused again for a long time. He knew the question she was dwelling on, but wanted to wait and see if she voiced it. Would she be brave enough? It was probable.

“What do you see in _my_ future?” she finally said. “Anything interesting?”

Cronus wagged a finger. “Better to let that be a surprise.”

She frowned. “Oh come on,” Demeter said. “You can't just tell me you see the future and now show me something.”

“You want to see something?”

She nodded emphatically.

“I’m going to win this duel,” Cronus said as he stood, blade in hand.

“You're on,” Demeter said, rising to the challenge.

She learned just how frustratingly accurate his predictions were not too long later. Though she put up a decent fight first. Either way, it had distracted her from her questions for a while longer. Demeter would ask more soon enough.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

_To my lovely wife,_

_These new Wardens sound great! I can't tell you how relieved I am knowing you're in good hands. You can handle yourself, sure, but the extra protection never hurts. Especially with things like these “Children” out there. I didn't think the darkspawn could ever get worse, but they managed!_

_Court is boring as ever, more so without you. At least Arl Eamon seems pleased to see me so focused. Really I'm just doing whatever it takes to get out of there as fast as I can._

_Ah! That's another way that the darkspawn have gotten worse. They've forced us to be apart! Awful things…_

_Leliana apparently hadn't gotten the message that you're away, but she did write to us. Nothing out of the ordinary, just updates on Haven and the community there. I think she's starting to get antsy, though. Artemis was right about one thing. Leliana was not meant to be some calm Chantry sister. I wouldn't be surprised if she leaves to find some new adventure, soon._

_As for the…gift. I still have it. It's locked away and hidden but I admit, I catch myself staring at the box every so often. But we can't use it, can we? I mean, Morrigan can say all she wants that it's nothing we'd be opposed to, but it has to involve dark magic. I mean, knowing her, right? And we already agreed it's best that we stay away from things like that._

_But then I think of you and our future and I'm back to being tempted. Sometimes I think about just throwing it away or smashing it, but there is something comforting about having the option still there. Maybe I should just bury the box until you get back. You know, so I don't go crazy with it up on that high shelf._

_You should ask Cronus. He's around you still, right? I mean, I won't be surprised if you tell me he's run off, but if he is near he's the best person to ask._

_Well, best is a stretch, but you get what I mean. He can see if it would turn out badly from us actually using it. Tell you if there is any real reason for our concerns. It's the only way we can know for sure, other than finding out exactly what would have been involved in Morrigan making it in the first place._

_These things only make me miss you more. I can't say either of us has the best record with decision making skills, but I think you are still a bit better than me. At least with these nobles you're better. You know how to talk to them. Get them to listen to reason._

_Just tell me you're closer to finding some answers? That the bad guys have gotten their butts handed to them and you're heading home soon? I could use good news._

_All my love,  
Alistair_

_P.S. I have been dreaming of you lately, just to show how much I miss you. They're naughty dreams, too, and they've given me some ideas. The sooner you return the sooner I can try them. Just in case you needed extra incentives._

Nyx sighed, putting the paper down. The tease. She couldn't help but smile at his words, even though some of it brought her stress. It was nothing new. The potion Morrigan sent had already been on her mind for ages.

Nyx would have to explain Cronus’ experimenting to Alistair. They couldn't ask him about the outcome without risking it becoming worse from their actions. She was already worried enough about what changes they had made, and what consequences those would bring.

She left the letter on her desk. Nyx couldn't bring herself to reply, at the moment. This was so beyond her. Magic was just something she didn't want to get tangled up in again. Not without understanding the costs. But even without being a mage herself, she was surrounded by it and its effects.

Some were nice. Anders and his healing were both pleasant to have around. Nyx enjoyed his humor and the passion he had for his fellows. He cared deeply about the injustices done to those with magic, which she understood well in her own fight for the elves.

Demeter had experience of both, but seemed interested in neither. Perhaps that was merely on the surface. Nyx admitted she hadn't gotten the time to really speak with her since Demeter apprenticed herself to Cronus.

Cronus, the main source of the magic still in her life and one of her biggest concerns. There had been nothing yet to indicate that he would become just like the Changeling, but they were the same man. Perhaps not entirely, but that could change. If he were driven enough, Cronus could become a serious problem.

She didn't know enough of the Changeling's history to say for certain whether he was on that path or not. Nor did Nyx know how the change of splintering Cronus could make that more or less likely to occur.

In the end, it was her fault, wasn't it? All this magic she'd pulled into her world and her life. Guilt did nothing to ease the tears still left, but that didn't mean it had been so easy to wash away.

Whether or not Nyx was relieved by Cadmus' understanding was a mystery, even to her. It was good that he wasn't trying to turn everyone against her, certainly, but she almost felt like he was justifying her too much. In that position, perhaps he was simply afraid to be more critical. That made Nyx feel even worse.

Cadmus didn't _seem_ afraid. He waved pleasantly at her approach, sheathing his daggers and stepping away from the training dummy. Nyx blamed her hesitance. There were still some things he didn't know.

“Hello, Commander,” Cadmus said.

He knew she should have had pointed ears and a marked face.

“Hello,” Nyx replied.

He knew she had traded these things for human features so she might save her love.

“What brings you out here?”

“Just needed a walk to clear my head. You?”

He knew she had employed dark magic and brought back the Blight to fight it again.

Cadmus gestured to the dummy. “Training. There was a moment in the mines where I gave off my position to a darkspawn moments too soon. Nathaniel had me covered with an arrow, but if he hadn't been there…”

He knew she had needed to be human and noble to marry a king. What he didn't know was how she had taken on that role, or whose life she had stolen to do it. Nyx could barely remember how she had talked herself around that one.

Given his smarts, Cadmus might have figured it out on his own, anyway.

“…because we are heading there soon, correct?”

Nyx shook her head. “I'm sorry I…blanked out for a moment there.”

“Something on your mind?” Cadmus asked.

Yes. Too many things.

“There are costs to being a Warden,” Nyx said, choosing another less difficult subject to face. “I told Velanna of the first; death in the Joining. But there are so many more things we give to fight darkspawn.”

Cadmus hummed, sympathetic. “It is a great cost for the sake of a world that has so readily forgotten us, in the past. But it must be someone's duty.”

“There is one in particular that troubles me. That makes me doubt whether I should have become a Warden again. I needed to, in order to accomplish all I had set out to do. Yet, now I wonder if maybe I could have managed without,” Nyx said.

Cadmus waited in silence for her to finish the thought.

“A king needs heirs,” Nyx sighed. “And even if he didn't need children, I know Alistair and I both want them. I want to give that to him. A family, like he ought to have. Like he should have gotten from the start. That he is even recognized as a Theirin, bastard or no, is incredible. Yet, he wasn't a part of that family. King Maric never took care of him or ensured that he was happy. Cailan didn't even know who he was! And his sister…”

Nyx's stomach still coiled with hate at the thought of Goldanna. Cronus had said something about the two not really being related, but refused to explain. Whatever he knew, his lips were sealed.

“I can't say I have an issue with that, myself,” Cadmus said awkwardly. “But I can see that it's important to you.” He paused, thoughtful. “I did know a couple of Warden mothers and fathers in Orlais. One in particular, Addie, she had her kid after she took the Joining. Actually, she was pregnant when she took it, and didn't even know. The senior Wardens all said she was lucky that she didn't miscarry with the taint infecting her blood. But her little girl has grown up healthy. Doesn't see her mother often, but that's the price Addie chose to pay.”

“Who looks after her daughter, then? The father?”

“He did, until he died. Some terrible illness, Adelaide never really liked talking about it. Not blight sickness. No, he was far from the darkspawn. But Addie's sister took her daughter in. Raises her with her own children. They're older than her and not always nice, but she has a roof and a bed. That's all Addie can ask for, really,” Cadmus said.

“That must be awful. Having your child so far away?” Nyx said.

“Not all of us have the luxury of leaving the Wardens to run a country,” Cadmus noted. “Not that it's all easy for you, but any child you have would be well cared for, without a doubt.”

“Of course,” Nyx said. “And I want to ensure that for every child in Ferelden.”

“You are in the habit of setting lofty goals, Commander.”

Nyx felt a little defiant. “Someone has to.”

Cadmus smiled. “And I applaud you for taking that weight. People like myself are better off with a weapon in our hands and darkspawn to kill.”

“You don't think you could ever be more?”

Cadmus had to stop and think again. “Not much else among the Wardens. Technically I'm senior to everyone here and you're still the Commander.”

“Not forever,” Nyx said. She wondered if she was the only one who remembered that.

“Right… Denerim awaits your return, doesn't it?” Cadmus said. “But you have Cronus here, who you've known far longer.”

“I don't think he wants the position.”

“Doesn't matter. Grey Wardens take what they're given.”

 _Not Cronus,_ Nyx thought. He was more likely to leave if he heard she was going to make him Warden Commander. She didn't want to do that, anyhow. It didn't seem a fitting position for him.

“There are plenty of others here,” Nyx said. “I will consider you all before I make my decision.”

“Then I hope you choose the person who is best suited to it,” Cadmus said.

Nyx wondered about that. Nathaniel wouldn't be a bad choice, with his training and cool head. Demeter was fairly level, herself, though Anders was occasionally a bad influence.

The only other person she would consider who was there was Cadmus. Him, she didn't think she knew enough about to definitely say. But she could see potential for a great leader, in him.

“I promise I will,” Nyx said. This, she knew, would be her decision alone. She would not ask Cronus for his visions or judgment. This was going to be something she chose for herself. She wanted to have confidence in the choice, and in others she would make. It would prove that she could trust herself again. After all, not a her decisions had been cataclysmic the first time around. Other things were simply out of her control.

Nyx would take the future into her own hands. So she needed to trust that she could do it right.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

“So, a Dalish mage, huh?” Anders said.

Velanna was new, and new was interesting. She was also another mage, which meant he had a starting point for conversation. If those two things alone weren’t enough to get Anders wanting to talk to her, he had ten silver riding on whether or not he could charm her. Oghren would have to pay up if he succeeded.

“Why?” Velanna said, eyes narrowed.

Anders blinked. “Are you asking why you’re a mage or why you’re Dalish?”

“ _Why_ are you attempting to speak with me, shem?”

Anders could hear Oghren cracking up clear from the other side of the room. That little asshole.

“Because, you’re a Grey Warden like the rest of us now. You should start making friends,” Anders said.

“I don’t need them,” Velanna insisted. “Especially not shemlen like you who would come barking up any sylvanwood in search for a woman fool enough to lie with them.”

“Hey,” Anders griped, “I don’t limit myself to just one gender like that.” He turned and winked at Nathaniel who was at the other end of the room, seething. Weird. Anders wasn’t sure what there was to be so angry about.

Velanna was willfully ignoring him, at that point. Anders needed to bring it back around. He decided to try for some flattery.

“Have I ever told you that I find tattoos incredibly attractive?” Anders said, doing his very best to throw bedroom eyes her way.

“Have I ever told you I find most humans physically and morally repulsive?” she shot back, without missing a beat.

Oghren snorted in the distance.

“Good to know!” Anders said, aiming for a quick recovery. “Still, we’ve some things in common. The Wardening bit is new, but we’re both mages. We can discuss magic!”

“What would that accomplish?”

“Lots? Great civilizations are built on the sharing of ideas.”

“Sharing? You mean stealing, of course. Followed by crushing those you stole from,” Velanna said darkly.

Anders sighed. He was getting nowhere with this. “I think that chip on your shoulder has replaced your head,” he mumbled.

Velanna glared at him. “What was that?”

 

“Nothing, no… Nothing.”

Velanna finally stood, furious and stiff. She stared at him with hate in her eyes for a long moment, until she finally found something to say. “My fireballs are bigger than yours.”

“It’s not the size that counts, Velanna,” Anders said.

Her ears flamed red. “Did they tell you that in your Circle? They were trying not to hurt your feelings.”

“The Circle lied to me? Andraste's sword, my world is falling apart! I have been unmanned!” Anders said, gasping dramatically and mock-swooning.

Having finally had enough, Velanna huffed and started to stomp away. She cursed in elven as she went. Anders couldn’t have translated, but he could still understand the intent and feeling behind the words. It was enough to make him steer clear of her for a bit.

That, and, Cadmus was finally back from his training, which meant the two Dalish would magnetize to each other as they’d been doing since they met. If Cadmus hadn’t already explained his disinterest in relationships and romance, Anders might have thought he was trying to get her into bed.

Cadmus took one look at Anders, then another at Velanna as she left, and sighed deeply. “Whatever you’ve done, please don’t do it again,” he said.

“We were just talking,” Anders said.

Nathaniel scoffed. What was his problem?

 

Oghren, on the other hand, was coming up to them with an open palm. “And getting shot down. Now pay up.”

Anders fished out the silver from his pocket and winced as the change jingled into Oghren’s hand. The dwarf laughed his signature throaty chuckle, and made away with his winnings, whistling all the while. Cadmus just watched the whole thing, then shook his head.

“A little fun is all well and good, but Velanna is a fellow Grey Warden. You should be treating her with the same respect you’d expect of the rest of us,” Cadmus scolded Anders. “The same goes for you, Oghren.”

Oghren waved off the comment, to drunk to give a shit.

“To be fair, she _did_ just spend the last few weeks tormenting and murdering humans who tried to travel along the Pilgrim’s Path. I think she’s owed a little payback,” Anders said.

“Not from you,” Cadmus argued. “She’ll be making up for her misdeeds for the rest of her life. Don’t make it unnecessarily harder for her.”

Anders was about to retort again, but Nyx was walking through the door. Even though she was incredibly kind and understanding, Anders felt the instinctive need to be a bit more serious around her. If for no other reason than that she could easily kick his ass, should she ever choose to do so. Given the way she giggled at his jokes (giggled!), Anders guessed he was in the clear even if he did push the limits sometimes.

But he wasn’t about to test that just then.

“I should go check on her. Make sure she doesn’t want to kill you,” Cadmus said with a serious expression.

“It wasn’t that bad, was it? Surely she wouldn’t…” Anders said.

Cadmus shrugged. “I know _I’ve_ killed shemlen for less,” he said. Then, once he saw the horrified look on Anders’ face, he grinned. “Not to worry. I’m only joking. But I should still make sure Velanna’s feeling alright. You know. Just...in case.”

Anders decided he’d best steer clear of those two for a while. Damned Dalish elves could be terrifying, apparently. Maybe that wasn’t all of them, but he’d heard stories about Hera from Nyx, as well. Anders was not going to take any chances, for now.

“So, Nathaniel…” Anders began, switching targets for his sweet-talking.

Unlike his usual response of blushing and getting flustered, Nathaniel simply huffed and left the room. Anders was either seriously off his game, or something was bothering Nate. Either way, that was two failures in one day, and he didn’t really feel like getting shot down a third. He tossed Oghren the silver he owed and went to look for Demeter. At least she would humor him with playful flirting, when she wanted to.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

It had seemed like a mundane afternoon, which would have been welcome for some moments of peace. Nyx was not surprised, however, when the peace was disturbed.

Oghren ran through the main doors, huffing and sweating. He looked as if he’d just seen a ghost, and they literally had before, so it shouldn’t have come as such a shock. So, not an actual ghost, but something to give the same terrifying effect. Perhaps there was a new danger to the Keep? Nyx was prepared to grab Stargazer, if need be.

“Oggie, what’s the matter?” she asked.

“ _Shh!_ ” he hissed. “Don’t say my name, not even cutesy versions of it! At least not so loud. I’m not here!”

Nyx cocked her head, turning once the door opened again. A female dwarf stood at the entrance, red fury in her cheeks and a deep crease in her brow.

“Where is he? I know he’s here,” Felsi said. Nyx almost didn’t recognize her. She appeared a fair bit older than she had almost a year ago. She carried a bit of extra weight as well, the way women usually did after…

Oh. Well, it explained the anger.

Felsi locked eyes with Nyx and marched up closer. “Cough him up, Warden.”

“If you’re looking for Ogh—”

But Nyx was interrupted. Cronus, apparently nearby, slid in. “Do you have an appointment, madam?”

Felsi looked ready to bite someone. “You’re not going to pull the moss over my eyes,” she snapped. “Oghren, get your hairy ass down here!”

Oghren, smoothing down his hair and trying to look cool, strolled in closer. “Hang onto your beard, woman,” he griped. “Is this a conjugal visit? Looking for Oghren to grease the old wheel?”

Nyx sighed. He was as smooth as he always was, which was not at all.

“Don’t you lay one finger on me,” Felsi said. “You’ve done a lot of stupid things on a whim, but joining the Wardens…”

Oghren just chuckled. “Didn’t you say it would be hot?”

“We were _role-playing._ ”

“Things I didn’t need to know about Oghren’s sex life,” Cronus whispered in an aside to Nyx.

She couldn’t help but agree. “This is a bit awkward.”

“See? You’re making my boss uncomfortable,” Oghren said.

“You’d think any friends of yours would have developed an immunity to embarrassment by now,” Felsi said.

“Look, I didn’t sign up on a whim, all right. You kicked me out,” Oghren said.

“You were just looking for an excuse!”

“You kept trying to make me into something I’m not. I can’t play house like you want me to,” Oghren said. “I’m good at one thing, Fels, and it’s killing.”

“He is quite good at killing things,” Cronus noted with amusement.

“He’s _always_ been good at killing,” Felsi said, massaging her temples with one hand. “That and making nug-brained decisions. You can take the caste out of the warrior, but you can’t take the warrior out of the man… You had a good thing in the army. They respected you. Especially after fighting for Denerim!”

Oghren sighed, releasing some of the tension from his shoulders and showing how truly exhausted he was with this argument. Nyx got the feeling it wasn’t the first time they’d discussed these things. Yet, it was probably the first time he’d been so prepared for honesty.

“Felsi, I finally got the ol’ conker on straight and I don’t belong anywhere but here,” Oghren said.

“Fine, Oghren,” Felsi said, equally speaking her own truth. “If that’s what you want. The baby and I will just have to get by without you.” She turned and left, looking rather defeated by the whole exchange.

Oghren started to grumble things under his breath. Then, Cronus smacked the back of his head.

“Ow! Watch it, you cracked mage!” Oghren said.

“You left your kid behind,” Cronus said. “Be glad I didn’t hit harder. Felsi wouldn’t have held back if she decided to attack. And I would’ve let her.”

“Oghren, you never told me…” Nyx said.

“What did you expect me to say? I’m not exactly the father type. I can barely take care of myself, let alone something so tiny and vulnerable… _I’m_ tiny and vulnerable enough!” Oghren said.

“You realize who you’re talking to, right?” Cronus said. “I want nothing more than to be with my son, and Nyx wants nothing more than to have one. And you’re here, avoiding family life because it’s new to you? Are you that simple?”

“Cronus, this isn’t about what we want,” Nyx said softly.

“So you defend his choice to abandon his baby?”

“I...didn’t say that.” Nyx took a breath. “Oggie, you should at least help support Felsi. Her child is your blood. You can’t tell me that means nothing to you.”

“Maybe it doesn’t!” Oghren said, though by the looks of it he definitely cared. “Listen, I’m not meant to be someone’s daddy. I’d just screw up that kid so bad that they’d turn into… Well, another me. The world can barely handle one screw-up.”

“Does this have anything to do with Branka?” Nyx asked.

“What?! No! Why would you even bring her up? Damn, now I have to drink even more to get that sodding woman out of my head,” Oghren said.

“I just mean, you lost so much of your family to her before. You may just be afraid of something like that happening again.”

“Pretty sure it has more to do with the responsibility that he can’t handle,” Cronus said.

Oghren only grunted and grumbled more. “Will both of you just quit it? I’m not gonna sit here while you try to crack into every sordid detail of my personality. If anyone needs me, I’m going to be over by that keg, doing my very best to forget my damn name.”

Nyx watched him drag himself away. He’d be blacked out within the hour, for sure.

“I wish I knew how to actually help him,” Nyx admitted to Cronus. “Oggie can be so stubborn. Unless he thinks it’s his idea—”

“—he won’t listen. Yeah,” Cronus said. “It is in there somewhere though. He just needs to admit to himself that he wants it. Being a rolemodel to some kid would change his whole perspective, but he’s more worried about what the negative effects could be that he won’t admit there are positives in there, too.”

Nyx paused. “You’re being surprisingly sympathetic to this.”

“I have. A son,” Cronus reminded her. “One who is so far away I won’t get to meet him for another… At least a year. Perhaps more.”

Nyx hadn’t even realized that Cronus was missing more than just Morrigan. But with his mind, he already knew some things about how the child grew up, surely. Enough that he knew his child’s gender.

“But you _will_ see him, Cronus,” Nyx said, putting a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to reassure him.

Cronus merely rolled it off of him. “When you have one of your own, you’ll understand better.”

He left Nyx behind, who stood in stunned silence. Cronus had not said “if,” but _“when.”_ Anyone else might not have given her pause to say such a thing, but with his splintered mind, it could have been that he knew something more. A future that was not only possible, but likely.


	11. We Meet Again

The Amaranthine market was bustling again already. The things they had achieved by stopping Velanna showed. The merchants had more wares, and the smugglers no longer caused an issue with the competition. Goods were sold legally and cheaply without compromising the businesses of those in the market.

It was just lucky for them all that no one recognized Velanna, or there could seem to be some conflict of interest. The blonde elf still did her best to glare at passersby, which still left some of the humans around them vaguely unsettled. Cadmus managed to cool her down a little, enough that the heat from her eyes settled from a blaze to a small spark of fire.

But Velanna seemed to be the only one that went unrecognized, that day.

Sigrun had an unfortunate run in with someone from her past, who she had framed for a theft ages ago. The incident got the woman exiled from Orzammar. Hearing that Sigrun had been told to join the Legion of the Dead as a punishment for her true crimes didn’t make things any better. The dwarven woman stomped away, cursing Sigrun under her breath.

“That was… I’m sorry, Sigrun,” Nyx said, uncertain of what else might comfort her.

Sigrun just sighed. “It’s in the past. We should move on, Commander.”

Nyx made a mental note of the incident, but didn’t press. The encounter was upsetting, to say the least. Sigrun could keep her privacy until she was more prepared to talk.

It was less than an hour later, when the group browsed the marketplace, when Nathaniel’s eyes went wide. He was staring at a woman with black hair, similar to his own, and the pale blue eyes to match. The resemblances were impossible to miss.

“Delilah?” Nathaniel said, his voice sounding like it was suddenly very hard to breathe. “Is that really you?”

The woman turned, her initial look of shock quickly melting into pure joy. She said a few words to the merchant she’d been haggling with a moment ago before hurrying over towards her brother. Delilah threw her arms fully around his neck and held him close. He returned the hug, squeezing her tight.

“Nathaniel! I’d feared the worst,” she said.

“I heard from groundskeeper Samuel that you were still here, but I don’t think I fully believed it until now,” Nathaniel said, holding her back at arm’s length. He couldn’t stop staring at her, the places where she looked different, and those where she was still the same. Still the little girl he’d grown up beside, and yet clearly a woman who had a whole life of her own.

“Times must have been hard, Delilah,” he lamented, “but you can do better than this. Come back to the estate until we find somewhere else.”

“What?” Delilah said, laughing back her surprise. “Oh, Nathaniel, you misunderstand. I didn’t move here and marry Albert out of desperation. I adore him! You will too, as soon as you meet him. Much better than the stuck up nobles that father paraded me in front of. Good thing Fergus had the sense to marry someone before it was his turn to ‘court’ me.”

Nyx smiled, though there was the twinge of sadness as she remembered her sister-in-law. “He was lucky to meet Oriana. I think it was love at first sight for those two,” she said.

Delilah jumped as if she’d only just noticed the group of strangers behind her brother. “Oh, my… You’re the Cousland girl, aren’t you? I’m so sorry. What father did to your family…well it was…terrible. Thank the Maker I’m finally far away from his evil. He can’t hurt anyone, anymore.”

“Father’s evil?” Nathaniel said. “Isn’t that overstating things a little? He got caught up in politics…”

“You weren’t here,” Delilah said, shaking her head. “You didn’t see what he did, firsthand. You want the culprit who destroyed our family? It was him, without question.”

“I…had no idea,” Nathaniel said.

“Of course you did,” Delilah said. “But you always worshipped father, right from when you were a little boy.” She sighed, then, an attempt to banish the hurt from her heart. “Come, brother. We have a lot to catch up on. Especially if you’re now traveling with the famed Hero of Ferelden. In fact, I’d like to meet all of my brother’s new friends. Come to my home and stay for supper. I insist.”

“That’s not necessary,” Nyx insisted. “I would hate to impose, and there are a lot of us…”

“I’ve had more people than this in my house at once. Believe me, it’s no trouble,” Delilah said.

In the end, they agreed, though Velanna held back. “I’d rather not join. I doubt they want me there. They probably think I’d track in mud.”

“Velanna, she invited all of us. I doubt she’d do so if she wasn’t—”

But Nyx was interrupted.

“I’ll be at the inn. I have enough for a room all my own, which is the way I’d prefer it. You can come find me there once you’re all finished,” Velanna said, already starting to walk off.

Nyx looked to Cadmus, who understood the anxious look in her eyes.

“I’m on it,” he said. “She won’t get into any trouble, I promise.”

Nyx wasn’t sure if she was more worried of Velanna being the cause of the trouble, or merely that she would attract it to her. Either way, it seemed a poor decision to leave her alone. Cadmus already proved to be trustworthy enough. Perhaps he’d be a good enough influence on Velanna to avoid any and all altercations that Nyx could imagine.

Delilah’s house was about as humble as Nyx would expect of one belonging to a merchant, though it had its charm. It was also roomier inside than it appeared, which made the dinner table an easier squeeze than anticipated. Having three lithe mages helped a little with space, even though the two stocky dwarves just about made up for the difference.

Nathaniel went to help in the kitchen, and Nyx swore to him that she’d keep the rest on their best behavior, so they didn’t burn the house down. Which meant Sigrun had to confiscate Oghren’s flask and dole him out small amounts of alcohol when he got too crotchety to handle. It also meant that Demeter was on “Anders Watch,” keeping him from trying to eavesdrop on the Howe siblings.

Delilah’s husband, Albert, was understandably taken aback when he returned home to find his dining room full of strangers in various kinds of armor, their pile of weapons off to one corner. Delilah laughed through her explanation, enjoying the look on his face as he was introduced not only to his wife’s brother, but to Queen Nyx, as well. He fumbled over honorifics until he settled into calling her Nyx and accepted that she wanted to be treated as any ordinary guest.

Though Albert did still rush to find their nicest bowls and flatware.

In between all of this and dinner, Nyx found a moment to speak with Sigrun. The other three were distracted enough with their own antics, and Nathaniel was still chatting with Albert and Delilah while they finished up with the dinner.

“How are you? After that encounter just outside the market, you must be feeling…something,” Nyx said.

“Surprised, I suppose,” Sigrun said with a small shrug. “I never expected to see Mischa again. Not when she was exiled and I joined the Legion. Maybe the Ancestors thought it would be funny to see me get yelled at in the street.”

“I never would have expected that you joined the Legion for something like that,” Nyx said. “What I know of you and your pride in the Legion of the Dead doesn’t match up to the harsh image she seemed convinced of.”

“No, it was all true,” Sigrun said. “People change in the Legion, one way or another. I’m better than I once was. She was a good person, and never deserved what happened to her. Even if Behrat was threatening her life, there must have been another way.”

“So you knew her before you framed her?”

“She saved me, once,” Sigrun said. “She caught me stealing a leg of nug, and instead of turning me in, she _paid_ for it. She said the casteless turn to crime because we have no options. If she could help one casteless girl…” Sigrun took a deep breath. “But I proved that I’m scum, just as they always said.”

Nyx’s brow creased. “You didn’t have much of a choice.”

“But I did have one! It wasn’t no other option. It was just a number of awful ones. And I ended up picking the one that was going to save my skin, at the cost of her home.”

“Better that than your life. Or hers. She’s still alive out here, even if it’s hard,” Nyx said.

“Maybe,” Sigrun said, absently drinking from Oghren’s flask. She coughed and choked it down. “Bloody nug farts! What is that?”

“Sampling some of Oghren’s home brew, eh?” the other dwarf laughed, noticing Sigrun’s sputtering. “Careful, it’s strong.”

“Yeah, enough to kill a full grown horse,” Sigrun muttered. She finally let him have his flask back, if only so she’d never make that mistake again. “Ugh. The point is, the Legion changes people. Some for the better, others for the worse. But all of us change. I know now, having lost many friends, that friendship isn’t something to be squandered. Perhaps I could make amends. Mischa said something about working for a tanner? I could visit, just to talk.”

“It would be a good place to start. We can find time tomorrow, if you’d like,” Nyx said.

“Thank you, but that might be too soon. Let’s give her a little time, first. Then I can see about helping. Maybe… _hmm_. It’s something to think about.”

Nyx changed the subject to something a little lighter, but it wasn’t long before the food was on the table and the conversations fell away for a bit while everyone dug in. It was a typical Ferelden stew, but much thicker than Nyx was used to. She followed along with what Nathaniel did, and used a bit of bread to slop up some of the stew. The meal definitely stood as one of the better ones she’d had, of late.

Nathaniel was one of the only people who wasn’t so focused on stuffing his face that he couldn’t talk. He started to fill the rest of them in on how Delilah’s life was going, letting her interject every so often to correct him or—lovingly—poke fun at his enthusiasm. Apparently she was pregnant, and due in spring.

“Congratulations,” Nyx said.

“Thank you,” Delilah said. “I’m sure once you’re back home you will be trying for the same. Imagine, Ferelden with a little prince or princess to fawn over. We haven’t had that since King Cailan was a child. Which I don’t really remember, given how young I was then.”

Nyx sipped her drink, hoping someone would speak and move the conversation off of her before she had to answer. It was a comment made with good intentions, but Nyx felt the need to lie and evade the subject. Still, the whole table of Wardens had already been told about the consequences of taking darkspawn blood into their bodies. They already knew why there was an uncomfortable brewing silence around them.

“People have said that’s what makes Alistair so humble and thoughtful,” Demeter said, before Nyx had lowered her drink. “He wasn’t raised like a prince, was he?”

“No, he certainly wasn’t,” Nyx said, silently thanking Demeter in a look. That did hurt to think about—how Alistair had been risen in such isolation, hated by Isolde and neglected by Eamon—but it was marginally easier to talk about. She didn’t get too deep into the details, as her husband’s privacy was still something he deserved to keep, but she told them a little about how Eamon hid the secret until Duncan came to recruit Alistair.

The topic then moved on to how she met him and how they fell in love. While Nyx blushed through that (heavily edited) story, Delilah leaned over to Nathaniel.

“It makes me wonder… Have you been involved with anyone, of late? I know you were off in the Free Marches for ages, but surely there was someone there at least a little bit attractive,” she said, lightly poking his ribs.

“I was discouraged from fraternization,” Nate said, though not without a blush of his own.

Delilah chuckled. “Well, what about now? A certain blonde can’t seem to keep his eyes off of you.”

Nathaniel tried very hard not to choke on his food. “What? No. Anders is awful. He’s constantly pestering me in some way or another, it’s maddening.”

“I do believe you said something similar about Lady Farron when we were younger? Come to think of it, she was blonde too, wasn’t she?” Delilah said with a smile.

“She put slugs down the back of my shirt.”

“I know,” Delilah said, leaning back. “I told her to do that.”

“You menace.”

The siblings ended up laughing. Once they’d calmed down again and the group had moved past the odd outburst, Delilah took the chance to seriously encourage Nathaniel. If he really liked this “Anders,” she saw no reason for him to hold himself back. He wasn’t a noble anymore, not _really._ No Wardens really gave much of a hoot who slept with who. Not anyone at that table knew of, anyway.

“Given how much of a romantic your dear Commander seems to be,” Delilah said, directing a smile back towards Nyx, “I’m sure she’ll even offer her blessing.”

“Yes, well…” Nathaniel said, looking at Nyx with a lot less cheer.

She noticed him and tilted her head quizzically. He gestured that it was nothing to worry about, which only made her frown. She let it go without putting him on the spot.

“All I’m saying is, you don’t have to live under father’s shadow anymore. You see the life I’ve made for myself. Find one of your own, now that you can,” Delilah said. “I know you’ve joined the Grey Wardens, and I think it’s been good for you. But it doesn’t need to be all you have.”

Nathaniel stayed silent. Around him the others laughed and enjoyed themselves. Most of them talked, but Anders and Demeter were playing some sort of game with one another. It required only the use of their hands. Probably something they’d made up when they lived in the Circle.

“Well,” Nathaniel said at last, “I have you again, sister.”

“That you do,” Delilah agreed.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

Another message from the Dark Wolf brought the group around the next morning. He was in his full armor again, hiding his face from the world. Nyx didn’t mind. She wasn’t the only one around, and there were plenty of people who didn’t deserve to be trusted with his identity. Perhaps she should even be included as one of them.

He informed them that he had been unable to find the names of those that conspired against the Wardens, but did find the place where they met. The Dark Wolf marked it on Nyx’s map and bid them goodbye. She thanked him.

“No need for thanks. Services have been paid and rendered, as is the business of such dealings. I do, however, ask that you continue to do good for the people of Ferelden. Should you do this, and should you have need of me again, I will be here. Ever ready to serve those who make Thedas a better place,” the knight said with a bow.

“I will do all that I can,” Nyx promised.

Now they had their next destination in mind. They had their packs together and their armor on, and were ready to head out.

Velanna and Cadmus didn’t say much about their night apart from the rest of the Wardens. “Uneventful,” was the word Cadmus used. Velanna didn’t really use any words at all to describe the evening. In fact, she just said, “Mind your own business,” and left it at that.

Nathaniel kept drifting off while they walked, his mind clearly on something. Anders noticed, and sidled up next to him.

“So… Your sister seems nice,” Anders said with a smile.

Nice was a word for it. Gorgeous was also an appropriate word. Having seen their mother’s portrait, he knew most of the lovely features the Howe siblings shared were from their mother’s side. There was more of Rendon Howe in the stubbornness, the cool demeanor, and a bit in the nose and chin.

“She is,” Nathaniel said. “I’m glad she’s happy.”

“You really were worried?”

“Naturally. I’d not seen her in years and after the news of my father, I didn’t know what to think. I knew my brother had died, that much news had reached me, but no one said anything about Delilah. I nearly lost my entire family at once. Even you must understand how painful that would be.”

Anders slowed his pace, enough that Nathaniel charged ahead a few paces before he noticed.

“Yes,” Anders said, his head lowered, “I do.”

Nathaniel knew that look. “Anders, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply…”

“Actually, I think you did,” Anders said. He picked up the pace, until he was power-walking away from Nate.

Nathaniel simply chased after him, trying to keep up. “I hardly know you,” he said. “I had no right to say that.”

“You’re right about that,” Anders said. He refused to even glance at Nathaniel.

“Anders,” Nate said, exasperated. “I mean it; I’m sorry.”

Anders finally slowed down again to a more normal pace. He realized it was drawing some attention from the others, and this was the sort he didn’t care for. He sighed.

“I believe you,” Anders said. “And you’re right. You _don’t_ know me. Not really.”

“To be fair,” Nathaniel said carefully, “you haven’t exactly let me.”

“Well where’s the fun in that? I can hardly be a seductive man of mystery with all my secrets laid bare,” Anders said, snapping back to a smirk.

“Anders…” Nathaniel said. He might not have really known Anders’ past, but he knew enough about the man to recognize the mask. “You don’t need to hide to be attractive.”

Anders blinked. “You think I’m attractive?”

Nathaniel instantly pretended like he could no longer hear the other man. But Anders was never going to let that slide.

“You’re sweet on me! I don’t believe it!” he said, chuckling. “All this time I thought you were stiff for other reasons but, heh, _well…_ ”

“You can be such a child,” Nathaniel lamented.

“Perhaps, but you’re the one who likes me. So what does that say about you?” Anders said.

Nathaniel didn’t grace him with an answer. Only partially because Nyx was stopping them, giving them the signal to start calming down and preparing themselves. They were nearing the farmstead.

Both Nathaniel and Nyx recognized the local lords and ladies who were gathered. Nathaniel could have guessed at who would be among them. All loyal to his father, they had constantly gone out of their way to please Rendon Howe. They had his ear, and thus, some influence. More than they’d had before, certainly.  
Nyx was an unknown entity to them. They saw her pacifistic nature and her desire to move forward those who had been oppressed as threats to their standing. Disposing of her was the easiest “solution” to these problems. Even though anyone reasonable enough to think about it for a minute would realize that it was the Wardens themselves who had taken the power of Amaranthine.

Plus, it would not be just the death of the arl, but of the Hero and Queen. Regicide had much larger consequences than the murder of someone of a lower status of power. King Alistair wasn’t likely to let it go without a full investigation.

They were fools, really, and not all that well concealed. As the Wardens approached, the lords and ladies hid behind their hired swords and cowered.

“Oh Maker, it’s her,” one of the trembling lords sputtered out. “P-please have mercy, your majesty.”

“Stop begging for your life!” one of the ladies said, stepping forward and pushing her fellows to the side. “This is what we wanted, wasn’t it? Here’s our chance to kill the bitch who’s been standing in our way! Hidden from the rest of the world on an abandoned farm. The only key is…no witnesses.”

“You’re mad!” the lord shouted, before proceeding to run to a door into one of the buildings. A number of the other nobles followed suit, though a few stood and drew their weapons beside the mercenaries and the lady who had spoken up.

“Is this really the kind of stand you want to make?” Nyx shouted. “Think on it a minute. If you choose this, you face not only myself, but this entire group of Grey Wardens. People chosen for their skill and prowess in battle. I have mages at my side, as well. Do you really wish to try and face us? Or will you stand down and face the punishment for your crimes?”

A few hesitated at this, but the woman who had spoken before remained adamant.

“We know what we have done. The word for it is _treason._ We will die either way, won’t we? I say I’d rather go fighting and at least getting a chance to slice up that pretty face!”

Nyx almost started to argue the point, to say that she would attempt to pardon any who laid down their arms, but the woman rushed her then, and her words died before they could even leave her lips.

In Nyx’s hesitance, she did allow the woman close enough to get in a swipe with her single dagger, though it just barely nicked the tip of her chin. It was Cronus who was quick to push the woman off her feet and kill her in one swift move of his blade. He’d not even stopped to coat it in ice or fire before moving.

The lords and ladies had all been in the same regal outfits they normally wore. Which meant they were completely unprepared for close combat, with no armor to speak of. A few actually fled after watching the woman get skewered by Cronus, hoping to spare their lives by running for the hills.

The mercenaries, however, were as prepared as they would need to be for such a job. Nyx did not hesitate in battle with these men. Their deaths were no less awful, morally speaking, but in terms of the effect that killing them would have it was less far-reaching. Fewer people were likely to take up arms on their behalf. Other mercenaries would not be inspired to plot against Nyx after seeing cruel treatment of their peers.

When did she start seeing people like this? As mere cause and effect? Accepting that some casualties were unavoidable in her chaotic world was necessary so she didn’t constantly break down. The clinical manner in which she chose which people would fit into that category, however, disturbed her, even as she fought.

The others had less of a moral quandary. People were trying to kill them, so they were determined to do the same before it could actually be done to them. To put it simply: kill or be killed. Nathaniel was the only other one with a bit of hesitance, having known many of these noblemen before, when they were friends with his father. But given all that Delilah had illuminated for him, he was less regretful about killing them than he might have been, otherwise.

When all the mercenaries lied dead, with their lordly employers beside them in a similar state, Nyx approached the house where the others hid.

“Should we search for the runners?” Cronus asked. “I can find them easily.”

“How much harm could they do?” Nyx said, before pausing to think about whether or not she really wanted the answer, given the possible consequences.

“A fair amount, under the right circumstances. Not much under others,” Cronus said. “It’s best that we capture them, at the very least.”

“Take Demeter and Sigrun with you,” Nyx said. “Try to take them alive, if you can.”

Cronus frowned. “We’ll see.”

The rest would be up to Nyx. She opened the door cautiously, in case one had managed to set up a trap in the time they had taken to fight. There was nothing. Not even a poorly planned ambush. The remaining conspirators were so desperate for their lives that they were simply huddled on the far side of the main hall, waiting for judgment or death. Whichever came first.

“She was right, wasn’t she?” one of them said. “The sentence for treason is death.”

“True,” Nyx said, which made the entire group tense up in front of her. One woman even began bawling. “However, under the circumstances, some of you may be given a pardon. Come with me and confess to your crimes and those of the rest of your gatherings. Give up all the information you have and we may see reason to lighten the ruling.”

“I have a child! A boy of ten!” the woman wailed. “Don’t leave him without his mother!”

Nyx tried not to let the strain on her heart show. “Under normal circumstances, I would never even consider that. But you knew that such traitorous actions could have consequences, and still you went along with it. I will do all I can to see that you live, but I cannot allow any of you to simply walk free after the threats your group has made. To myself _and_ the Grey Wardens.”

This didn’t end the woman’s bawling, but it did quiet her down a little.

“W-we’ll go with you,” said the man who had spoken before, when they were still outside. “We will accept whatever punishment you deem fair.

“Speak for yourself!” another declared. “I will go nowhere with this wretch!”

Nyx hardened her expression. “You either come with me in irons, or you die like those who chose to fight. None of you get to walk away from this.”

The woman cried louder again.

“Shut up!” one of the lords said.

In the end, none of them were willing to face their immediate demise. They were bound while the Wardens awaited the return of Cronus. They came back with just one of three who had bolted, their armor a little more bloodied than before.

The last man was tied up before Nyx decided they ought to make camp there. It would be a fair day’s journey back to the Keep, and they would have to watch their prisoners while they went this time. Some rest was necessary for all that would follow.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

Most of the nobles were executed. Found guilty of treason and stating intentions to try again, the fools spelled their own doom. Only two of them were given partial pardons and allowed to live out their lives in cells. All of the punishments doled out would serve as examples for anyone who would threaten the safety of Nyx or the Wardens again.

That didn’t mean Nyx had to like any of it. The whole affair was full of grim dealings, which left her in quite the sullen state. When Oghren offered her some rum to ease the weight on her shoulders, she decided she didn’t want to decline, for once.

With the night came so much more quiet, and Nyx continued to imbibe in lieu of talking about it. What more was there to be said? She could tell them how she hated death and killing, but they’d only stop to remind her that those things were a part of her world now. Nyx should be used to it.

And she was. That knowledge only made the feeling in her gut worsen, twisting and twisting.

So the alcohol helped a little with the pain. It wasn’t a habit, and knowing how Oghren was most days, she didn’t plan on turning it into one. Nyx just needed something to relax her mind. It would also eventually put her to sleep.

For the moment, however, she just sat with a bottle in the dining hall, staring over papers and letters from various sources. She already had to work out an official statement as Warden Commander over the executions that had happened not long ago. Nobles couldn’t simply be put to death without a word. If they were left without reasoning, it could bring about a revolt against the Grey Wardens. One they absolutely didn’t need again.

Now Nyx was faced with letters arguing over land rights, begging for help against encroaching darkspawn, and asking why she was so incompetent. She didn’t think she was as entirely a failure as those letter writers seemed to believe, but they still left some guilt in her. She wanted to help, but she was just one woman. Even if Nyx also happened to be a powerful woman in a high position who was also capable of swinging a sword really well, she still had her limits.

At the very least, she could extend her resources. She posted guards along main trade routes to benefit as many people as possible, even if that left some of the main points in the hold weakened. Nyx also pardoned those she could, to prevent more dying. There were enough people being lost to the darkspawn in one way or another. Executing every young soldier who deserted because their family was in danger would make for far fewer capable fighters in Amaranthine.

Few people actually stayed in the room with her that late. Cadmus remained for a while, helping her with some affairs that were strictly Warden business, since he knew a bit better what to expect from the Grey Wardens of other countries. Any time a letter from the First Warden came in, Cadmus advised accordingly.

Demeter was also in the room, staying even as Cadmus started yawning and leaving. She had a candle and a book out on the table to read. It wasn’t exactly an entertaining book, but it helped with the theory of casting certain spells, with which Demeter was less comfortable. Since studying under Cronus, she had been expanding her horizons in all sorts of ways.

Nyx admired Demeter’s focus. Drunk as she was, the letters on the pages in front of Nyx were starting to spin a little. She wouldn’t be up much longer, at that rate. She was even starting to doze off.

“Cronus told me about his power the other day,” Demeter said suddenly.

Nyx never would have foreseen that coming up so suddenly without being splintered herself. She righted her sleepy head and looked to where Demeter sat. Demi’s eyes were already fixed onto Nyx.

“He clearly left parts out, but he explained how he sees what he does. I was curious about _your_ involvement, however,” Demeter said, twirling a bit of rust-colored hair around one finger. “I know you were already aware that he was splintered. And there was some implication of deeper involvement from you but he is...loyal, when he chooses to be. He said nothing concrete.”

“What makes you think there is even more to be discovered?” Nyx said with some caution. Honestly, gone as she was from the booze, it was a little harder to _be_ cautious.

“Cronus was particular in the way he avoided your name. He made sure he didn’t draw any direct connection between the Changeling and you. But that mage was after you, wasn’t he? There had to be some reason for it,” Demeter said.

Nyx was dizzy. “Lots of people were after us,” she managed.

“But an abomination mage clone of Cronus? Tell me that isn’t peculiar.”

“It...is,” Nyx said, grimacing. “What do you want me to tell you? It was a difficult and confusing time.”

“You can tell me the truth. Please, Commander… _Nyx._ I’ve been putting my life on the line to help you and the rest of the Wardens. Am I not at least owed some trust?”

Nyx swallowed. She had gotten so used to a life beside Alistair, who already knew her secrets. Who understood. Cadmus already knew, and he took it in stride. So did Cronus and Oghren, but none of them were the same. They were allies and comrades, but not friends.

Demeter wasn’t much different. But she _could_ be. Maybe that was why, in a moment of weakness, Nyx sighed and laid down the bottle in her hands. Why she moved to sit closer to Demeter, so they could speak in hushed voices.


	12. What We Will Become

Demeter would have liked to think, for all that she’d just been told, that she was handling it pretty well. So what Nyx was actually a Dalish elf in a human’s body? So what she’d been through the entirety of the Blight twice? So what she had not been involved in killing just one Archdemon, but two?

Was that something that should have made Demeter hyperventilate a little? Surely not! Of course, that wasn’t stopping her lungs from heaving through the air she breathed.

Short of breath, she still ran up the stairs once Nyx was gone. Demeter was proud to have at least maintained her composure while in the Commander’s presence. That was more than could be said of other people, surely. Other people knew. Three of them there, to be exact, outside of Nyx herself and the new addition of Demeter.

She’d been sworn to secrecy, watching Nyx sober up as she told her story. It was enough to make even the lightest of the lightweights sober. Demeter respected the trust she’d just been afforded, but not to a degree where she thought she could handle it alone.

Cronus already knew, sure, but turning to him was more for magical advice and tutoring. No, Demeter needed someone who really understood _her._ Who liked Nyx and wouldn’t betray this secret to someone else. Unless his blabbery mouth got away with him, which happened a bit too frequently.

Still, Demeter wasn’t considering all of the consequences. She had to talk to someone, for her own sanity. That meant she was ignoring some of the obvious negatives of running to Anders.

He startled when Demeter slammed open the door, then quickly leaned on it to let it shut tight behind her. He was standing over his pack, going over his personal stock of potions and ingredients to see what would be necessary. They were leaving for the Blackmarsh, come dawn.

“I need to talk to you,” Demeter said, trying to keep her voice down even through the tension that closed up her throat.

“Did something happen? Are you hurt?” Anders asked. Before she could even answer a bit of creation magic flared up in his hands, green as flora. He lowered them again when his search provided no answers. “What’s going on, Demi?”

“Commander Nyx told me more about herself. You might want to sit down, it’s…” She paused for breath. “...it’s a doozy.”

Anders sat and listened. Neither knew that details had been omitted, though given enough time they could surely guess that the magic Nyx had asked for from the Changeling included a price. Neither spoke that thought out loud, however. Not at first.

“So she’s known what’s going on this entire time? Because she already lived through this!?” Anders shouted.

Demeter held a finger over her lips. “ _Shh!_ Not everyone knows. Besides, she told me she hasn’t lived this part. Just the Blight. Then she ran away. According to Cronus it was Cadmus who took up the helm and fought this Mother and Architect. Whoever they are. She has no more answers than we do.”

“But she knows someone who can alter the course of time itself. Reverse death,” Anders said, exhaling and pressing back his hair. “Fucking Maker’s salty ballsack…”

“Yeah,” Demeter agreed. “Though he’s gone now. Died when they fought him a while back.” Of all the secrets she shared, she left out Cronus’. Demeter didn’t know why. It wasn’t like she owed him more loyalty than Nyx, but she felt like this was something that should be just hers and his. Anders didn’t need to have the weight of the future over his head. Not when he was much more likely to jump at whatever awaited him, regardless of the outcome.

“So all of that died with him?” Anders said. “Seems like a waste.”

“Consider all that Nyx went through. I don’t think that’s the kind of magic we want to keep around.”

And maybe she felt the need to protect Cronus, as well.

A knock at the door made the both of them jump. They hesitated, staring at one another, then gazing silently at the door.

“Who...is it?” Anders said, verbally shrugging.

The door creaked open. “I overheard the two of you chatting,” Cronus said. He wore a calm smile that somehow unnerved the both of them. “But it’s so late, and we have a _long_ journey ahead. What could be so important that it requires such immediate discussion?”

Demeter knew. She knew that _he_ knew. Anders, on the other hand, did not. He was clueless and left out of the loop.

“Darkspawn,” Anders said. “Killing methods for darkspawn. You know, because we’re likely to run into more of them.”

“Interesting,” Cronus said, tone dripping with sarcasm. “And what are these unique tactics you’ve developed?”

“Cronus…” Demeter pleaded. It was her fault Anders was involved now. He shouldn’t be the one getting all the shit for it.

“I just want to be certain that your friend understands how important it is to keep certain things to himself,” Cronus said, raising his hands as if he were surrendering. “Do you understand that, Anders?”

Anders nodded quickly. “Yes. Right. _Secrets._ Veeery important stuff.”

Cronus stepped forward, doing his very best to look intimidating. It was working.

“Cronus, please,” Demeter said, though even she was nervous now.

“Relax, Demi. I just want to make sure he’s up to speed,” Cronus said. He reached out a palm, flickering dark bolts of magic at his fingertips. They shot into Anders’ head and for a moment, he convulsed. Demeter screamed.

It only lasted mere seconds, but within that time Anders was faced with a whole future. Nothing concrete, nothing he could even really make sense of, but many visions of where he could end up. Things both good and bad.

He ran from a cave. He stowed away on a ship. He fought templars in a Chantry. He laughed with unfamiliar friends. He held a woman with dark brown hair while she cried. He watched people dying in the streets of an unknown city. He stood beside a tall man with a large axe. He turned from the same woman with dark hair, a pang of sadness in his heart as magic exploded in the distance. Yet he was determined to carry on.

When Anders came back to the present, Demeter was holding him and crying his name. His head was foggy but those images were still so clear. Whoever those people were, he yearned to see them again. He couldn’t possibly explain why, partially because he could barely part his lips even to breathe.

“What did you do to him?!” Demeter demanded, staring down Cronus.

“I showed him his potential. He just needs to remember to stay the course,” Cronus said.

“Get out!” she screamed, throwing a pillow. She had never been so furious with someone in her entire life. Hot tears pricked her eyes as she reached for more ammunition. “Get _out!_ ” She threw a vase at him which smashed as it hit a far wall.

“As you wish,” Cronus said. “My message was already delivered, anyway.” He turned from them with such nonchalance that Demeter found herself even more furious as he left.

Anders blinked slowly, his mind beginning to become coherent again. He could rationalize what just happened, which illustrated just how _irrational_ it all was. If what he had seen was all real, then there was a lot he could do. A lot of good, and lot of harm. He wasn’t sure which outcome intimidated him more.

Demeter brushed the hairs from his face, more gentle with Anders than she had ever been before. “How are you feeling? Did he show you something strange?”

“...was it real?”

Demeter nodded.

“Oh.”

“I know it’s strange, but... He shouldn’t have shown it to you like that. He should have—!” Demeter took a deep breath. “What did you see?”

“Nothing I can really make sense of. A lot of it happened in an unfamiliar city. And there was some brunette… Really pretty, that one,” Anders said.

“Of course,” Demeter said, rolling her eyes. “You get a glimpse of your future and all you can focus on is that someone attractive is going to wander into your life.”

Anders didn’t pay her much attention. “She was sad a lot of the time. I hope I don’t cause it.”

“The only thing you can cause is stress. I wouldn’t be too concerned.”

They left the matter alone for the rest of the night, though Demeter decided to stay and share Anders’ bed to sleep in. She didn’t want to be alone, and she didn’t want to leave him alone after what Cronus had done. It ensured that Anders wouldn’t say a word about Nyx, though the other effects were yet to be determined.

Still, by morning, most of the visions seemed forgotten. Anders was too distracted by Nathaniel to think of the mystery woman, and too focused on getting himself together for travel to think hard on anything else. Every so often images swam up in his mind, but nothing was really discernable from the mess of it all.

Though he could have asked Cronus, he chose not to. Leaving it be seemed a safer decision, and Anders was probably right about that.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

Disgusting was a fitting word for the Blackmarsh. Bleak, putrid, and grim also came to mind. The whole group muttered in uniform dislike of the place as they marched their way through it. Nyx was reminded of many times where the dead rose from their places of rest and attacked. She hoped that would not be an issue, here.

Regardless, they followed the trail of the Warden that had come before them. Only Cronus and Nyx were fully prepared for it to lead them to Kristoff’s body, well into its decay. The rest were either holding out on a small hope or believed too much in the abilities of Wardens.

Needless to say, there was a bit of gagging when they approached the corpse. The Blackmarsh reeked of death on its own, but the sight of decomposing flesh was enough to make a man with the strongest stomach retch.

Demeter and Anders stayed clinging to one another. Others simply backed away from the sight.

“We were too late,” Nyx said. She tried to sound defeated, even though she’d already known the outcome.

But it was as she knelt down to examine the body that the group was ambushed. Darkspawn surrounded them from all sides, including some of the Children they had encountered in the Deep Roads. One of them, dressed in vibrant reds with blood painted in streaks across his face, stepped forth as the leader. They were less shocked than the previous times when this one spoke, though it was still jarring to witness.

“Yes,” it said, “that is your Grey Warden. The Mother told it to me that if he was lured to this place, and slain, that in time you would come.”

“You needn’t have killed him,” Nyx said, balling her hands into fists. “We would have come regardless.”

“But his death was enjoyable for us. The Mother, she was right. The Mother is always right,” the darkspawn fanatic said, raising his hands as if in praise.

“I’m certain I’m right more often than she,” Cronus said, studying his nails. He wouldn’t even acknowledge the darkspawn as a threat. He looked to Anders and grinned. “It’s not like she can see the future.”

The darkspawn grumbled and growled. “The Mother, she is no prophet, but she is most clever. Oh yes, that she is. I...here before you is the First, and I am bringing to you a message. The Mother, she is not permitting you to further _his_ plan, whether this you know or not. So she is sending you a gift.”

The First, as he called himself, raised a hand to Nyx. His fingertips pointed up towards the sky as energy gathered into his palm in the form of bright orbs of light. They condensed into one large ball, then exploded outward, engulfing them all.

Nyx was knocked to the floor, a heaviness pressing down on her chest. After the light came a sudden darkness, until she realized that was simply her eyes shut tight. The sensation of her skin on her bones was so odd, as it had never been before. Or...no. Not never. But just once.

“Oh damn that fucking bastard!” Cronus shouted. “We’re in the Fade.”

“Yeah,” Demeter said, recognizing the place in the way only mages could. “Wow. This is bad.”

Everyone glanced around themselves, studying the changes in the landscape. It was like the Blackmarsh in layout, but brighter and foggier. And greener, too. That was the oddest detail.

Nyx was least happy to see that they were not the only ones transported there.

“No!” the First exclaimed. “We have come to the Fade as well? It cannot be this!”

Oghren laughed once. “Seems your Mommy screwed you over big time.”

“The Mother has deceived me. I am betrayed!”

“Serves you right for working with her,” Cronus said. “You’re expendable, like the rest of her lackeys.”

“Now I am trapped in here with you. I am the fool,” the darkspawn lamented. “I am the First! I am not being ‘expendable!’ Both the Grey Wardens and the Mother shall be learning this! I will be leaving you with the Children. I will be finding my own path back into the world. Back to the Mother.”

He stalked away while the grub-like darkspawn approached, hurlocks on either side of them. The Grey Wardens huddled together in preparation for a fight. They were exhausted by the end of it, but it did have an end. Anders and Cronus spread waves of healing magic over all of them. It got them some energy back, enough to press on.

Darkspawn seemed welcome in comparison to the rest of what they faced there. Demons and spirits of trickery lead them astray and attempted to kill them. Velanna had to be dragged from a demon of pride, and Demeter from one of desire. The physical weariness was replaced with an emotional one, leaving them slumped and practically dragging their bodies along with them.

They worked through a catacombs, and sighed with relief upon emerging on the other side. The Fade was more than any of them could take. Nyx was just glad not to be doing it all alone, as it had been with Sloth.

Angry shouting directed the Grey Wardens towards a village. It looked exactly like the one they had walked through in the Blackmarsh, except that this one was in far better condition and fully populated by angry citizens. They were at the gates of a massive manor, gathered around what appeared to be a glowing knight.

They edged their way into the crowd to hear what the knight had to say.

“The mansion will not protect you, fiend. Come out and face your crime!” the knight, apparently a spirit, said.

“The witch hides!” an armed villager cried. “Break down the doors!”

“Be cautious my friends. The baroness has power within her lair, and she well knows it. We rush in at our peril,” the spirit said.

“What’s going on?” Nyx thought aloud.

A nearby villager noticed the unfamiliar group, and gasped. “Y-you don’t belong here! Are you here to help free us from the baroness’ evil magic? We’ve been trapped here for Maker knows how long, leaving the baroness to simply grow more wicked and powerful by the day.”

The spirit noticed the villager as they explained the situation, and approached the Wardens with caution. “You...your figure echoes through the Fade. You have made quite the impact among the waking. They call you Hero, do they not?” he said, studying Nyx.

“They do,” Nyx said.

“But it is not how you see yourself. No, you know the truth of what you have done. Reparations have been made, and still you feel shame,” the spirit said.

She shrunk. “Who are you?” Nyx asked, to keep him from saying any more about her.

“I am a spirit of Justice. Called here by the needs of these people who have been abused and oppressed by the baroness who resides in this mansion. I have watched and seethed at their suffering, and now I seek to aid them. And the rest of you...be you minions of the wicked, or more helpless souls tormented by her reign?”

“Neither,” Cronus said.

Justice stared down Cronus. “Yes, that much is apparent with _you._ A dark history spreads from all parts of you, and a bright one. You perpetuate each in your very existence.”

Cronus bowed in a mocking gesture. “My reputation precedes me.”

Demeter stepped forward to prevent Cronus from making things worse. “We are here to assist, if we can. And to get out of the Fade. We were trapped here by a darkspawn who calls himself the First. Do you know of him?”

Justice’s face could not be seen under his helm, but the noise he made would appropriately accompany a scowl. “I believe that I do. The baroness recently enlisted more help in her reign of terror.”

“This is so unlike other parts of the Fade,” Anders said in wonder. “How did all of this get here?”

A villager stepped forward to explain, this time. “We once lived in the real world. The baroness took our children and used their blood for evil magic. We burned down the mansion in revolt, but she cast one final spell to trap our souls here for an eternity. We’ve been here ever since, living at her whims.”

“We have to help these people. I can’t imagine how terrible it must be to live in this gray, lifeless world,” Sigrun said in pity.

Velanna huffed. “We’ve no quarrel with this baroness. We simply need a way out.”

“Have you no pity for their torment?” Nathaniel said.

“For what reason? Even if we attack this baroness, she may well be able to keep them stuck in the Fade. But her power could also be the one we need to get us out,” Velanna insisted.

“No!” Justice said. “You will not aid her wrongdoings. Tell me, Hero, are you as self-serving as the one you travel with?”

Nyx shook her head. “We will not seek to aid the baroness. You are a spirit, you say? Surely you know of some ways to escape the Fade?”

“Perhaps. I can aid you in finding your way if you, in turn, aid these people. You all seem an able sort, and would be a considerable help against the baroness,” Justice said.

“We will do all we can,” Nyx swore.

“My intention is to storm the gate. Are you prepared?” Justice asked.

“No time to waste,” Nyx said.

Nyx, Justice, and Oghren all helped press against the gates and send them crashing down. The villagers piled in alongside the Wardens, weapons of various qualities and make raised in the air. The baroness stood above them on a ledge, darkspawn on her right and left. Directly beside her was the First, who had indeed reached the place much sooner than the Grey Wardens had been able to.

“My, my,” the baroness said in mock surprise. “All that shouting outside and you’ve finally decided to barge in. Without a proper invitation, I might add.”

“Foul sorceress! You will release these poor folk and submit yourself to justice!” the spirit shouted.

“Justice? Is that what you are calling it? What of their punishment? They burned my home to the ground with me inside it.”

“You stole our children!” an angry villager cried. “You used their blood to feed your vanity!”

“As was my due! You lived on my land. I—your rightful ruler! Your blood was mine just as your lives are now,” the baroness said.

“I don’t think that’s how being a ruler works, exactly,” Cadmus said, a wrinkle in his brow.

“Certainly not,” Nyx agreed.

“What’s this? You pathetic fools have managed to recruit more sympathizers?” the baroness said in disgust. “You involve yourself in dealings of which you know not. Begone!”

“We will not turn away, baroness. These people do not stand alone. Your reign ends here!” Justice declared.

“We must be ending this now,” the First interjected, urging the baroness to action. “The Grey Warden, it is more dangerous than you know.”

“Oh, as you wish creature,” the baroness agreed, rolling her eyes. “Kill them all, then you shall have the reward you requested.”

“Enough! The battle is joined!” Justice declared.

At his words, the baroness bore a deep scowl, pointing her hands at him to cast some unknown spell. It drew the spirit close to her, while the darkspawn rushed down at the villagers and Wardens. Justice was forced into his own battle one-on-one against the sorceress.

Nyx chose to take on the First by herself, though she received support from Cronus from far off. He had her back, for whatever reason he's chosen to this time. That he was helping at all was good enough for her.

It wasn't a long fight. Even with darkspawn the villagers outnumbered the baroness and her forces. The First was beheaded in one skillful swing, and that seemed to be just about the end of it. The villagers would be freed of their curse at last.

But the baroness had a nasty trick up her sleeve. A failsafe, in case the worst came to pass. A fog surrounded them all, Justice included. Nyx saw something reach out and manage to strangle the spirit as it wrapped about him. And then, she woke up.

On the other side of the Veil, in waking, they stood. A body lay near their feet, just as one had before, but this time it belonged to the First. The other body was not gone, but it did not lie still.

Demeter held a shaking blade with the tip pointed at the mobile corpse. Velanna actually screamed. Nathaniel looked like he might be sick, and Oghren was a few steps ahead of him.

“...Kristoff?” Nyx said, though she knew the man was long gone. No, this was some demon that has followed them through the Veil. Another consequence of Cronus and his meddling?

“That was the name of he who inhabited this body. I...how could this have happened? How am I here?!”

Demeter lowered her blade. “Justice? The spirit we met in the Fade?”

“It is I, though how I have come to be here is a mystery. That damnable witch must have brought me here, trapped me in this form. And she is still here. That last spell she cast was not intended to help you, but to bring her back to life. I could feel a powerful demon behind her magic. She must be slain, and the demon with her. Send it back to the Fade where its capacity for harm will be lessened,” Justice said. He charged ahead as if he were leading the crew.

Nyx had no complaint about that, for the moment. Justice seemed to know what he was talking about. Haste was necessary to prevent such a powerful and evil mage from wreaking havoc on all of Thedas. Especially if she had become some sort of abomination.

The group rushed back the way they had come, to the gates of the village that had once been locked. They knew what it looked like inside now, or how it must have looked years ago, from reflections of it in the Fade. But nothing could prepare them for the new threat that laid just beyond the metal bars that impeded them.

A sickening roar filled the air before the gates crashed to the ground. The creature that has emerged flickered in and out of sight, concealing itself with magic. It needed to, at the lumbering pace with which it moved. Otherwise it would have been one big target.

“The creature is the baroness! Transformed by Pride! Grey Wardens, if you are truly an order that stands for good, help me destroy her once and for all!” Justice cried.

“With pleasure,” Cronus said.

This time, Cronus chose electricity to cover the metal of his blade. It sparked around the sword in a bluish light. He charged at the demon and lifted his free hand to cover its body in similar sparks.

Demeter opted for ice, mostly because it was an element she was more comfortable with. She tightened her hand into a fist, focusing on the Veil and pulling more cold through it. She didn’t have enough power to cover the baroness’ entire body, but she had the strength to freeze one leg, at least temporarily.

It was enough to distract the demon and give the warriors openings. Cadmus and Sigrun skirted around the back, finding appropriate poisons to attack with. The beast was more brawn from the actions it took, despite the powerful magic the baroness had wielded previously. Magebane was not called for here. Poisons from deathroot or other dangerous plants would suffice.

Nyx and Oghren took the opening Demeter had gained them and hacked at the demon’s body. It had a rough outer layer of skin, like thick leather armor around it. It would have to take a few swipes before any true damage was done.

But it still hurt. The way the demon screamed was evidence enough of that.

Nathaniel and Velanna stood together, focusing their fire at the creature’s face to keep it distracted. The more openings the others got, the better.

Except, it also drew attention directly to the pair of them. With its leg pulled free, it quickly thawed, and was able to lumber towards Nathaniel. Its movements were slow, but large, and it ended up being quicker than one would have anticipated given its size.

Nathaniel grabbed Velanna’s arm, urging her to run. Despite an initial moment of complaint, she shut her mouth as the demon swiped a massive paw down at her. They dodged in the nick of time.

Demeter tried her ice trick again, but with less success. It didn’t hold nearly as well this time, and seemed only to serve to enrage the creature more. It bristled and growled, before charging after her.

In a panic, she stumbled back, only to trip and fall onto her back. Demeter sat up with the demon hovering above her, its teeth bared and claws raised.

She crossed her arms in front of her and called up a barrier. It struck the magic once, twice… then the third time it burst. The demon reeled back from the magic, repelled by it one last time. Then it laughed. Actually chortled at the sorry state Demi was caught in.

Had it not stopped out of pride, it might have meant the end for Demeter. But as it’s hand came down again, it found a new barrier in place.

Demeter could feel the heat of the magic, and looked around for the caster. Instead of finding Anders, like she’d expected, she saw Cronus, with his staff out instead of his blade. She couldn’t remember the last time she saw him with that instead.

“Cadmus! Go!” Cronus shouted.

Behind the beast, Cadmus and Sigrun had been slowly nicking the creature’s flesh, barely noticed. They’d been searching for weak points, and found them at last. How Cronus _knew_ any of that was a mystery. Not that it mattered.

Cadmus actually lifted and threw Sigrun at the demon’s back, since she was short enough to need the assistance. As for himself, a well-timed jump did the trick. He let his daggers sink into the baroness’ hide and hold him in place. Sigrun had done the same.

With poison dripping from their weapons, they aimed for the weak spots and cut in deep. Nathaniel, relocated where he could aim with them, followed their movements and found the same patterns in the skin that the other two had discovered. Arrows and daggers pierced in the right places, all covered with deadly concoctions.

Justice was the one responsible for the killing blow, leaping just as the beast started to topple backwards. The poison was making it confused and dizzy. Cadmus and Sigrun pulled themselves off of the demon just in time for it to collapse on its back.

With Kristoff’s blade lifted high, Justice drove it into another weak point, in the center of the demon’s chest. It was enough to kill the human the baroness had once been, and sever the connection to the demon within and around her. The body fizzled black, then slowly evaporated into smoke. Justice emerged from a thick cloud, looking ten times creepier with his decaying face surrounded by it.

It was done. They were safe once more. Demeter still stared, uncertain, at Cronus. He simply helped her to her feet and paid her hesitance no mind.

But even with the sorceress dead, Kristoff—or rather, Justice—still stood. With dead eyes he looked down at the slain duchess, whose very form was starting to dissolve into the Fade. Wrath was being called back through the Veil. What happened to spirits after dying in this plane was a mystery to most of them. But not to Justice.

“I am still here,” he said, his fists clenched. “This...should not be.”

“Do you know any way of finding your way back to the Fade?” Nyx asked.

“If I had such a way, I would have started about it by now. As it is, I am stuck here, inhabiting this body. But now that I see this man, his memories, his thoughts, I understand your Order a bit better. It is an honorable sort, indeed, and noble. Just. If you would permit me, I would take this opportunity to complete Kristoff’s mission. It was his dying wish that no more people suffer by the hands of darkspawn,” Justice said. “If I can assist in that cause, I would do it with all my strength.”

“It seems like a reasonable choice, while you find a way back,” Nyx said.

Cronus made a face, somewhere between delighted and grim. It looked rather odd, the way he was conflicted. Nyx only saw because she looked to him on instinct, wondering if he would warn her of certain repercussions. Despite the expression he wore, Cronus said nothing.

“How are you going to explain this to anyone at the Keep?” Anders pointed out. “He’s literally a dead man walking.”

Nyx had no idea. “I’ll...think of something. It’s a long way back to Vigil’s Keep.”

Everyone seemed more or less displeased, but made no arguments against it. What other choice did they have? They certainly were in no shape to fight another spirit if they angered Justice somehow. It was better to have his blade on their side, fighting with and for them.

Either way, it was time to get out of the Blackmarsh, and they couldn’t leave fast enough.


	13. Lending a Hand

Velanna was the most vocal, once time had passed enough that people were more comfortable with expressing their discomfort, about how much she disliked the idea of Justice. Not just him coming along, which was bad enough, but the very fact that he _was._ Not only was he a corpse, but a corpse with a spirit inside. Like cream filling, but less pleasant. And he certainly smelled nothing like a pastry.

Dalish were not quite as jumpy at the idea of demons and spirits. They were something to be respected, and sometimes feared, but the excess of fear was what birthed a number of them in the first place. Keeping your distance from them was more like paying mind to the walls of your neighbor’s house. You did not encroach on their space, and kept them from invading your own.

Velanna understood this. Particularly because she had been a Keeper. She was no fool, and knew the difference between a demon and a spirit. But she also knew what corrupted the latter into becoming the former in the first place; people. It was their kindness and curiosity and charity and grace that birthed spirits, yes, but it was all those nasty things that brought the demons into being. And it was much harder to convince a demon to be nice than it was to turn a spirit to evil.

All one really had to do was dangle a lovely fleshy body in front of their eyes (however many they possessed) to tempt them into trying to claim it. The experience of mortals in physical bodies seemed to just be the most fascinating thing. And it was enough to make demons dangerous.

And now a spirit _had_ that. Justice had a body (a smelly, rotting one) and they’d trusted him to keep on with full armor and a sword. Nyx even mentioned trying to find better gear and discussed the logistics of something to fit over what he was already wearing since he seemed a little too stuck in it. Besides the disgusting subject matter, Velanna was just not having it.

_Arm the spirit to the teeth! Why not! I’ve not seen him sleeping, or eating, or anything, so he could kill us whenever. But sure!_

Trust was foolish. Trust got you killed. Velanna thought back to how she must have been, _must_ have been better off alone.

Lonely as that was.

Their travels were interrupted by the sight of a forest fire. Nyx startled, rushing forward to help anyone put in danger by the flames. Velanna scoffed at her eagerness. Whoever was caught in that probably deserved it. They may have even started it to begin with.

Instead of being approached by fool humans, however, Nyx met with a Dalish man.

“ _Andaran atish’an,_ travelers,” he said. It was oddly cheery of him for someone walking away from trees charred to blackness. “Do not be startled. We only wish to be on our way.”

Maybe not so odd, Velanna realized. Fool shemlen might assume the same thing she had. They were “wild elves,” after all.

But worse, was that she recognized their faces. “Marren?” she said, the anger in her face softening to surprise.

His eyes widened as well. “Well, well, this is certainly a surprise. You, traveling with—”

“Humans, yes.” Velanna had not missed the sarcasm and rudeness in his tone. “Believe me, the irony does not escape me, clanmate.”

“We are no longer your clan, Velanna,” Marren said. He had no trouble looking her in the eyes. She didn’t like that.

“I thought most of your clan had died?” Cadmus said.

“No, many escaped. These Dalish gathered here…they are not all of my clan, but all were once friends,” Velanna said.

“She has no clan of her own, anymore,” Marren said. “Velanna was exiled. We—”

“Stop,” Velanna said. “I do not wish to speak of this. As Cadmus said, those who left with me are dead, and my sister taken by darkspawn. I have lost enough without being made into a mockery.”

“We’re trying to find the ones who took her,” Nyx said, stepping in. She inclined her head in a show of respect. “If she yet lives, she will be found.”

“Thank you, whoever you are. You have my gratitude,” Marren said. “Ilshae warned her not to go with you, Velanna. You see what you brought on her?”

“I think it’s a bit out of line to blame Velanna for this,” Cadmus said, brow furrowed. “As if she could have known of the danger.”

“No. I knew,” Velanna said. “You can tell Ilshae and her smug face that she was right.”

“Ilshae has passed on,” Marren said. Velanna was silent. “Even now, you can’t speak a kind word about her. Do you know anything besides hatred? I was glad to see the clan freed from your poison, and I will be glad to be rid of it now.”

“You needn’t be cruel. She has done everything in her power to save Seranni,” Nyx said.

“A human coming to your defense? Perhaps you _have_ changed,” Marren said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced. “Andruil guide your paths. These woods are full of dangers our most skilled hunters have found challenge with.”

“Thank you,” Nyx said.

“Mythal’s blessings upon you,” Cadmus said. It didn’t seem sincere, but Marren accepted the words and turned to go. Better that than to have it break into some kind of fight.

“Someone has some explaining to do,” Anders teased.

“Sometimes I find myself wishing that a darkspawn had gotten to that tongue of yours and torn it out,” Velanna said, eyes thrown like daggers in his direction. She saw Nyx as she turned back away, those big, pitiful honey eyes of hers full of sympathy. Something Velanna did not want or need. “Do not make a fuss over me! Let us be on our way.”

Nyx said nothing. Velanna should have been grateful for that, and yet she almost would have welcomed a few kind words.

“I left my clan, too,” Cadmus said, about a quarter of an hour later. “I was younger and foolish, but it was what I needed to do, I think. It brought me to the Wardens.”

“I do not _need_ the Grey Wardens. The power is appreciated, but all I want is to have my sister back,” Velanna snapped.

“All I meant was…do not mourn the past that never was. You do not need a clan to survive, nor do you need one to truly be Dalish.”

In saying this, he threw a momentary glance to Nyx. Velanna wondered at that, but assumed it couldn’t be something serious. Maybe he simply admired the Commander. It didn’t make her an honorary Dalish elf or anything like that. That was a foolish thing to think, especially of a human of nobility.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

Demeter’s custom blade was perfect. The one she’d been using before had been a rush job, but this one was something special. Wade had mentioned something inspiring him. Something about Cronus mentioning certain details that just brought the image together in a spectacular way.

All the materials had been things Cronus knew about and picked up in each place they had been thus far. Parts from the golem they fought in the Deep Roads. Heartwood from the Wending Wood. And bits of ancient dragon bones from the Blackmarsh. Meshed together into one weapon worthy of legends. Except this one was brand new.

Demeter couldn’t stop admiring it when she let it carve through the air. Thanks to the wooden components, Wade created it to function as both sword and staff. No more carrying a clunky staff and trying to work complex swordplay with that on her back. No more being weighed down by two weapons as she traveled.

The design was also something rather spectacular. Small birds (sparrows, apparently) had been carved into the blade as decor. The guard was formed by two extending wings, with a beak-like shape around the bottom of the blade. Small sapphires decorated the sheath, with a finely cut diamond on the end of the pommel. It was something meant more for royalty, Demeter thought.

Actually, she was kind of afraid someone might try to mug her with that thing on her at all times. While it was perfect (and she meant that in all seriousness) and appreciated, it made it precious. Demeter would be heartbroken to ever lose it.

“Isn’t it a bit...much?” Demeter said. Plus, it was still strange with Cronus. He was cruel, but then suddenly kind. He treated Anders quite strangely, and couldn’t stand to be around Justice at all. In fact, Demi now barely saw him unless they were training together. Like he was avoiding the pair of them.

“Nonsense,” Cronus said. “Only the best for my _protege_.”

“I feel like bandit bait,” Demeter complained. “Or worse. You know I’m an elf, right?”

“Really? I suppose the ears should have tipped me off,” Cronus said with a wicked grin.

“I’m serious. Someone will think I’ve stolen this from some noble. It’s too fine for an elf, and too fine for a Warden, and too fine for _me._ ”

His face actually fell, like he was feeling legitimate disappointment. “You don’t like it?”

“Well I…” Demeter looked at it, perfect and opulent and just _beautiful._ She didn’t want anyone else to have it. No one else should have it, because it was hers. The details were made with her in mind, and the function of staff and sword could only be used by two people, that she knew of. It wouldn’t suit Cronus as well as his darker, plainer sword.

“I love it, actually,” Demeter admitted. “I’m just worried about the impression it will give.”

Cronus hummed in contemplation. “It does draw attention. And you will need to sneak around, once you start to work with her. For now, keep it as is, but I’ll ask Wade to fashion a plainer sheath at least. Disguise it. Like you’ll be. Actually, that’s even more fitting, come to think of it.”

Demeter sighed. “Will you ever explain what you see in my future?”

“I won’t need to,” Cronus said with a grin. “I’d say you’re almost ready for it. But not quite. We’ll take care of the Architect and the Mother, first. Then...then you will be fully prepared. I know it.”

“For _what?_ You’re always so...ominous. And vague,” Demeter said.

“Well I don’t want to simply give it all away,” Cronus said. “It would be boring. We need a little suspense and mystery, don’t you think?”

Demeter rolled her eyes. “You are the strangest man I’ve ever met. And I’m friends with Anders. Which should put that in perspective.”

“You never really got close to Jowan,” Cronus countered.

Which was a fair point, given what Demeter had gathered about the man from after she had fled with Anders. So, were mages predisposed for oddness? Or was oddness thrust upon them? Being forced into isolation and kept inside most of their lives did have some effect on the psyche, she was certain of that much. Frankly, even Demeter probably wasn’t normal. She wasn’t sure how she was strange, but she knew she had to be. Or would be, if simply due to the proximity of herself to varying weirdos.

“At least give me something,” Demeter said. “You said I was ‘almost ready.’ What for?”

“Something great,” Cronus said.

Demeter took a chance, and believed him.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

It had started with a look. One casually sent over dinner, that told Anders to put down that turkey leg he’d been gnawing on and leave. Then after a short game of Follow the Leader, he’d wound up in a place he had wanted to be for a good while.

Nathaniel, despite the “come hither” he’d pulled off without even a gesture before, was entirely nerves. He was stiff, and not in the way he was meant to be for this sort of thing. He’d done the meeting in secret thing. He’d managed the whole fucking while your Commander was busy thing. He was sure a majority of the soldiers in his company had, one way or another. Either that or finding a way to relieve the itch alone.

But this was Anders. Anders, who was annoying but beautiful but a pest but so _charming._ How he managed to be all of those things at once was beyond Nathaniel. Despite himself, Nathaniel cared about Anders. He wasn’t just a friend who was willing to help out when nights got lonely.

The last time he’d done something like this was in this very keep. It had been some noble girl he’d been crushing on; he no longer remembered her name. At the time though, she meant a lot to him. Were Nathaniel one for exaggerations, he would have said she was his everything. Except he now had Anders there, who was a lot more present and real than a girl whose name he could not recall.

So maybe he got a sudden case of shyness. That might have made things awkward for a moment or two, but Anders seemed experienced enough in breaking down a bad mood that he managed to do just that. Nathaniel was pushed backwards until he hit a wall, and that was when Anders pressed their lips together.

Even with all the sucking and humming noises that suddenly filled Nathaniel’s consciousness, he had enough coherence to wonder just how acquainted Anders was with these sorts of things. He’d gathered that the man had been no celibate Chantry devotee, but had no further details. Demeter surely knew more than she would tell. Whatever—whoever was in Anders’ past was irrelevant at the moment. Still, Nathaniel was curious.

His mind finally let go of deeper thoughts when Anders bit his lower lip and pulled a little. It was done with amazing control, so it didn’t hurt, just teased. Nathaniel wouldn’t have thought that would feel good, but his body responded in a way that made him wonder if _it_ had known, independent of him. With Anders’ thigh against his groin, Nathaniel ground his hips to alleviate some of that building want.

Anders couldn’t help but chuckle. “How long have you been thinking about me? So naughty,” he teased.

Nathaniel grunted, and acknowledged the teasing no further. He simply snaked his fingers through Anders’ hair and pushed the man’s face back against his. Their tongues played against each other for a while, before Nathaniel forced his head back again.

“No more talking,” he said, like he was issuing a command.

“Yes _sir_ ,” Anders said, with far too much glee.

It was simple enough to navigate Anders backwards towards the bed. Nathaniel knew this room well, after all. Still, Anders stumbled a little as they went, and laughed at his own expense. Nathaniel couldn’t fight the fond smile in time to avoid getting caught, which earned him a delighted smirk.

“Hush,” Nathaniel said.

“I didn’t say anything!” Anders said.

Nathaniel responded by pushing him so he would fall against the mattress. Climbing fully on top of him, they kissed again, just enjoying the slow progression. There was no need for rushing. There was no officer who might overhear. No templar who might catch them in the darkened part of the tower. Still, both were mostly quiet out of habit.

Nathaniel was slowly tracing his fingers down Anders’ chest, over his robes, but the other man was a few steps ahead of him. Anders undid the buckle of Nathaniel’s belt one-handed, which was a fear in and of itself, before slipping that same hand down the front of his pants. Nathaniel groaned once Anders had his palm on him, wrapping around his cock.

Nathaniel could not help but jerk into the touch. Anders was still smug, proud of how fully in control he was. Nathaniel kept trying to show that he knew how to treat a man he’d gotten to his bed, but Anders was feisty and quick.

“You look so beautiful,” Anders whispered as he worked Nathaniel into a mumbling mess. “That dark hair and those rosy cheeks. I didn’t know you could even get this red.”

“Maker I hate you,” Nathaniel said.

“Your actions say otherwise,” Anders said.

Nathaniel gave in not too much later, pulling his own pants down to expose himself. The night air tingled against his skin, but that sensation was nothing compared to the slow strokes of Anders’ fingers over his hard cock. He was sure he’d heard some comment from Anders about how red he was down there, too, but Nathaniel was doing his best to ignore the teasing that Anders passed as flirting. Even though that voice kind of did it for Nate.

He could feel a climax swiftly approaching, and knew he’d be no good once he came. Nathaniel would turn into pudding and melt against the bedsheets before falling asleep. He wasn’t strong enough right now to stop that. After all, it had been quite a while since he last slept with someone.

“Anders,” he moaned. “Anders, I—”

There was a knock on the door.

“Fuck,” Anders whispered. His hand stopped.

Nathaniel bit his lip to keep from whining. He would not be reduced to something that pathetic, even though he now almost hurt from how much he needed release. Why could the person on the other side of the door not have just waited a few more minutes?

“Who’s there?” Nathaniel asked, straining to control his voice and keep it neutral.

“It’s Nyx,” she said through the door. “Is this a bad time? The builders were asking after you for some information about how the walls were first constructed? We thought you might know something about the place, since you were raised here.”

“I…” Nathaniel began, then paused and stared at Anders beneath him.

“Tell her to go!” Anders whispered intensely. He made a shooing motion with the hand that wasn’t still gripping Nathaniel’s cock.

Nathaniel hesitated for longer than he was proud of. “Give me just a few minutes, I’ll be down to speak with you.”

“Alright,” Nyx said. “Come to the front hall. Voldrik is waiting for us there.”

They waited until her footsteps faded to silence. Nathaniel had not even realized how tense he’d become with her nearby. Had she not been polite enough to knock, well… It could have been a bigger embarrassment than he felt it was now.

“Well, glad that’s over,” Anders said with a sigh. “Shall we?”

But Nathaniel was pulling himself away. He really didn’t want to, in fact his body nearly screamed at him for even trying, but if he let himself finish he would be out of commission and unable to help. Anders looked a bit dumbfounded, like he’d not even considered that stopping was an option.

“I’m sorry, but the structure of the Keep is important. It may be the difference between life and death for us someday soon,” Nathaniel said. “It has to come first.”

“Yeah…but you’re going to go down there with that whole situation?” Anders said, gesturing to Nathaniel’s erection. “I mean, your pants aren’t exactly loose and flowing robes. Makes it a little easier to conceal that sort of thing. Not that it’s easy with this either.”

“Which is why I’ll just need to...cool down before I go,” Nathaniel said.

“Or you could just let me finish what I was doing?” Anders argued.

Nathaniel made a pained look, like a plea. “I just need to put this on hold, for now. Another night, we can—”

“Fine, alright. I’ll go!” Anders said. He moved awkwardly due to his own erection, his face just about as flushed as Nathaniel’s was. Still, he did his very best to march angrily towards the door. “Far be it for me to besmirch your reputation with the Commander.”

“Anders, that isn’t—”

“It’s just really hard to feel like I’m not getting kicked out of your room right now.”

“Anders…” Nathaniel might have tried to argue, but it didn’t seem like Anders wanted to hear any of it.

“I’m not… I’m not angry with you, alright?” Anders said, deflating a little. He hesitated at the door. “Just for once, it would be nice to have a night, a moment for myself without worrying about the rest of the world. Or the templars around the corner. Or darkspawn.”

“This conflict won’t go on forever,” Nathaniel said. “There will be an end to it.”

“Then maybe once it’s over…” Anders mumbled. “I just want to do this right. Uninterrupted. For _once_ in my life.”

Nathaniel agreed. How had Nyx managed to start a relationship with the Blight going on around her and sleeping in tents most of the time? That must have been impossible to work around, yet those two managed. So why couldn’t Nathaniel and Anders do that now?

Once Anders left, Nathaniel took a few spare minutes to calm himself down. Well, it took more than a _few_ but eventually he cooled down enough for all of him to acknowledge the attempt. He rebuckled his belt and took one last deep breath before leaving his room to meet with Nyx.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

“I've made a decision and I want to tell you before anyone else,” Oghren declared to Nyx. It had come out of nowhere, but he had her full attention with a dramatic start like that. “Also if you know it makes it harder to back out of it.”

“Whatever it is, Oghren, I'm listening,” Nyx said.

Oghren scratched his beard and grumbled something incoherent. Then he cleared his throat and puffed out his chest a little.

“I want to have Fels and the baby move to Amaranthine when it's safe so I can...y’know, visit and such,” Oghren said, slowly decreasing in volume and confidence as he spoke. “I thought a lot about what magey said about his kid and how you keep wanting your own and… I don't know, I guess I just figure if I leave anything behind in this world I may as well try to make sure it's a good thing. Felsi could probably raise the kid better without me but…”

He paused for a long moment, then grunted as if in anguish.

“I know what it's like to be left behind by someone who ought to give a bronto's ass about you. I don't want to do that to someone else. Plus I can use some of the treasure we find in the Deep Roads to help out,” Oghren said.

Nyx couldn't help herself. She was beaming. She had hoped he would truly come around, and he had. Perhaps not all the way, not like she might have idealized, but it was something.

“Oh Oggie,” she said. “You know I actually found some really old things in one of the cellars that would be perfect for a baby. I'll have to ask Nathaniel if he's alright with it, but there's this rocking horse—”

“Thanks, Commander, but you don't have to do anything. I just...wanted you to know. I'm not gonna be the same sad sack of shit that you first met in Orzammar. This kid should know her dad is someone who did something worth remembering.”

Nyx blinked. “How drunk are you right now?”

“Stone sober,” Oghren said. “I have been miserable the whole rest of the day just thinking of doing this. And I really need a drink now. But I wanted to prove that I can… That I can. That's all.”

Nyx laughed, but went to fetch him some of the cheap whiskey they had around the Keep. This moment deserved a toast. Plus she was afraid of Oghren collapsing from how little alcohol was in his blood.

They tossed a few back, and as the night went on, both of them became less coherent. But one thing managed to stay in Nyx's head through to the morning.

“You know, I will probably make a terrible dad, but you? If anyone here should be able to procreate, it's you. Fucking darkspawn shouldn't take that, too,” Oghren said.

“Here, here!” Nyx said through a giggle. “Fuck the darkspawn!”

They clinked their glasses together for one last drink, then left the empty bottle behind as they retired to their individual rooms.


	14. Strangers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a lot of set up which made it a little harder to write. Actually, that could summarize my experience with Awakening as a whole. But next chapter, we’ll be into the home stretch.
> 
> Also, this is officially the last of my backlog for this, though I do have chapter 15 in progress. Anticipate some delays, though I will be doing my best to keep on track. If that means posting once a week but not on my regular Thursday, so be it.

While most were still uncertain what they should make of the walking corpse, Anders had found some good company in Justice. For one, he was actually interested in hearing Anders’ opinions on the state of mages within southern Thedas. Demeter mostly humored him because she was both sympathetic and in a similar position, but she was one to tire of the subject for the very reason that she related. Sometimes, Demi just didn't want the reminder.

To Justice, a lot of it was new information. Different pockets of the Fade birthed spirits particular to certain issues. Another spirit of Justice may have been more well-versed in the subject, but the Justice Anders knew was mostly born from the pains of the townsfolk that suffered under the baroness. What he knew of mages were some of their ills, when they abused the power they possessed. But he had no idea just how much the Chantry had done to cage and limit mages.

“We've no freedoms. We are watched over by templars even when we sleep. We can't even go for a nice stroll outside without someone trained to kill us on guard,” Anders said. “And then, just when you think to yourself, 'At least I'm not alone here. At least I have friends,’ they take those away, too. Transfer people to different circles almost at random. Make that funny one you used to spend time with Tranquil, so he can't crack anymore jokes. It's a life of fear, constant and unending.”

“Except for you,” Justice noted, “because of your escape.”

“Which took a few hundred tries to get right,” Anders said. “It’s your fault it’s like this, anyway.”

Justice stared, unblinking, but clearly bewildered. “I am uncertain what I could have done to cause your blame.”

“Spirits, I mean,” Anders clarified. “If the Chantry wasn’t so afraid of demons coming and possessing us—”

“I am _not_ a demon.” Justice was scowling.

“Right. Not that they know the difference. I’m not even sure I do.”

“Demons are spirits perverted by their desires.”

“What desires?”

“Form, understanding...sometimes power.”

“And you just don’t desire anything at all?”

“I desire silence, at the moment.”

Anders frowned. “So, hypothetically, you could become a demon.”

Justice sat straight. “What makes you say that?”

“You have a desire. If that’s all it takes to corrupt you—”

“It isn’t the same,” Justice insisted. “And I am quite finished with this conversation.” He stood from his seat, prepared to leave.

Anders leapt from his own chair, reaching for Justice in a plea. “Wait, no! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… I don’t think you’ll really become a demon. It’s just something we mages have to worry about; demons. They’re all the Chantry see us as. Pathways to the Fade. Pathways to demons. They don’t know about spirits like yourself.”

Justice paused, not returning to his chair but not moving further from the table, either. He did not move like people did, when deep in thought. No stroking of the chin or antsy contemplation. Just stillness, and silence. It was unnerving, especially because he never really blinked. Justice once said something about “forgetting” to do it. Anders believed him.

“You ran,” Justice said, “but you should have stayed. Someone like you can do a great deal of good for the mages.”

Anders snorted. “I will take that as proof of how little you know about me. Demi is better for leading any cause.”

“No denying she has a talent, but you have the heart she lacks. This isn’t just about you. It’s about all of those you cared about in that tower,” Justice said.

“You know what, you should go back to leaving. That was a good thing you were doing, not sure why I made you stop.”

“Apathy is the death of justice, Anders. Remember that.” And with an ominous warning, he took his leave.

Anders sighed. Demeter needed to stop leaving him with the others. Nathaniel was too nervous after the last time and had trouble even talking to Anders. Most of the rest sort of hated him to one degree or another. Nyx was just too busy. Which left Anders with the weird one, Justice. So far no conversation of theirs had been what he would call pleasant _or_ successful.

“Glad to see you getting along.”

Anders jumped, bumping his hip on the table. He yelped as if in pain, though he was just shocked. With his palms pressed back against the wooden edge for support, Anders stood upright again and faced Cronus.

The other mage seemed to appear whenever it was easiest to torture Anders. Demeter had made up with Cronus, but Anders still avoided the man like the plague. The memories of those flashes of visions were far foggier, but they haunted Anders in his dreams. He saw horrible and wonderful things happening, with a heavy leaning towards the former, and didn’t have any clue how much of it was real.

Yellow eyes and a red streak. Red hair and an intense gaze. A beardless dwarf with a hearty laugh. A city Anders didn’t quite know but felt like he should. He’d studied so many of those maps in the Circle tower, so he knew where to go when he was finally out. But maps were a bigger picture that didn’t reflect the nuances of city streets.

And Anders didn’t like the way that Cronus spoke. Everything felt like a taunt. Even this.

“Yes, well, I don’t know that ‘getting along’ are the words I’d choose for it. More just...getting,” Anders said. He hated that he was sweaty around Cronus. Not in the good _Maker that man is attractive_ way, either.

Cronus just hummed, and smirked, and kept walking. Relieving as it was to watch him go, something about the lack of response was all the more unnerving. Anders shook his arms a bit to remove the feeling of worry and fear Cronus gave him, then went on his own way.

The one good news that seeing Cronus guaranteed was that Demi was no longer busy. So Anders would no longer be alone.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

Nyx had been having a fairly standard day. There had been a lot of waiting, with all immediate dangers handled. Every so often a group of darkspawn would be reported, and Nyx would deploy a few of her Wardens, and they’d return shortly after with bloodied swords and grins that spoke of success. That was it. The usual Wardening business and nothing more.

She knew the Mother and the Architect were out there. Where and how to find them was the problem.

Odd as it was, the scream that broke through the courtyard of the Keep was almost encouraging. Maybe it was a sign that they could finally be rid of this chaos once and for all. Instead, once Nyx had bolted across to the front gates, she saw a woman cowering, clutching the Senechal to keep on her feet, and staring with tear-filled eyes at Justice.

“What have you done to him?!” the woman wailed. “My Kristoff… My beloved…!”

To his credit, the spirit looked quite concerned. He had not intentionally escalated things. Justice’s presence just did that to people.

Nyx had to step in.

“Ma’am, please try to breathe,” she said. She knew this kind of panic all too well. She almost felt some of it herself, but remained a calm focus on the sobbing woman. “There is a lot I need to explain to you.”

“You! You’re the Commander of the Grey!” the woman gasped. “Are you responsible for this? You were the one to send off my husband!”

“No, ma’am, I wasn’t. I arrived after the attack on the Keep. Whoever gave that order is no longer with us,” Nyx said. “And I’m sorry, but Kristoff… He passed away, as well. While he sought out the source of the darkspawn attacks.”

Kristoff’s wife breathed heavily. Her shoulders rose, fell, then shook. “Then who,” she breathed, “is _that?_ ”

“He’s...something of a long story,” Nyx said, glancing to where Justice stood.

He was standing straight as ever, unperturbed. Was he really unaffected, or simply unable to show it? It was possible he didn’t know how. Looking at him was eerie. Not just because of his sunken cheeks and paled eyes, but his stature was so unnatural.

“Please, it’s a long way from Amaranthine. We can offer you a hot meal and a warm bed for the night. It’s already late in the day,” Nyx said. She extended a hand towards Kristoff’s wife, but the woman recoiled.

“No, thank you. I will find a place to stay, elsewhere. I can’t...I won’t stay here.” She wouldn’t take her eyes off of Justice. “You have desecrated his body. I-I want him released.”

“I am not holding Kristoff hostage. He is no longer here,” Justice said.

Nyx stepped between Justice and Kristoff’s wife. “What he means is, we aren’t sure how. But we have mages here who can look into ways to separate Justice from your husband’s body.”

The woman wailed in frustration, pointing and shaking her finger at Nyx. “Then how am I to mourn? I cannot even burn what is left of him! It is my right! You will make this right!”

“I will!” Nyx swore. “I will. Just give us time.”

Kristoff’s wife said no more, leaving unsatisfied and shaken. Nyx offered her a guard to see her to the nearest inn, but she shook her head and refused any help. She wouldn’t even take a bit of coin from them.

Nyx took Justice aside once the scene was cleared. It was too much to ask that people not gawk at private moments, wasn’t it? Justice was silent as they walked, and Nyx couldn’t help but feel the chill of his cold body beside her. It was eerie to stand beside a dead man, especially one so tall and imposing.

Nyx wondered if he would sense the edge of fear in her, or if that only worked when he was in the Fade. Demons seemed confident in their abilities to read her, in the past, but those were in places where the Veil had thinned. Here, Justice was flesh and solid form. If he had extra abilities beyond Kristoff’s knowledge of swordplay, Nyx had not heard of it.

“We will need to do something sooner than I thought,” Nyx said. “I was happy to have you help us against the Mother and the Architect, but Kristoff does deserve a pyre. His wife deserves to grieve in peace.”

“Why does she need the body to do that? She knows he is gone,” Justice asked.

“It’s not that simple,” Nyx said. Her eyes lowered, as she thought of the many pyres she’d witnessed. Some she’d simply imagined, and never truly saw. There had been too many nights she had remained, lying awake as she pictured fire taking Alistair away. She wondered if the heartache would have been any easier to have seen it for herself. It was unlikely.

“People need to say goodbye. It’s how they start to gain closure. It’s… It doesn’t take away the pain of the loss, but it does help people accept it. To know that the person can never come home,” Nyx explained.

“Does she believe that I could bring Kristoff back? You understand that I cannot,” Justice said.

“I do. And I believe she does as well. But that doesn’t mean it convinces her not to hope.”

Justice hummed in acknowledgement. Nyx was the expert on the feelings of people, so he would trust in what she told him. He knew she had felt similar pain, after all.

“Then what shall we do?” Justice asked.

“I’ll get Cronus looking into a way to remove you from Kristoff, and return you to the Fade. Without killing you in the process,” Nyx said.

“Spirits cannot truly die, not as you understand it. I would simply be reborn as something new. Perhaps another Justice. Perhaps not.”

“I’d still like to try and avoid that, if we’re able. You deserve better. In the meantime, just continue to help us.”

Justice nodded. “When Kristoff’s unfinished business is concluded, I shall take my leave of his form and return him to his wife. So she may grieve.”

“Thank you,” Nyx said.

She left him to his own devices, prepared to seek out Cronus. Of all the mages there, he was most versed in magic the Circle didn’t like. Velanna could perhaps help as well, but Nyx wasn’t sure someone so easy to anger was good to trust with delicate matters such as this. Strange as he was, Nyx trusted Cronus. He would know what to do and how to do it.

There was no reason not to. He didn’t gain anything from it, but didn’t lose anything either. Unless this was another case in which he knew more than he’d shared, freeing Justice was a task best suited to Cronus.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

Nyx lied awake in bed for a long while. Something about Kristoff’s wife had brought her back, over a year ago now, to when she’d started over. Lying alone, though she’d done it many times since, only added to the sensation. A pit made room for itself in her stomach, and Nyx closed her eyes. She imagined with all her might that Alistair was beside her. Her heart needed reminders not to fear.

Fearfulness to the point of panic or terror had been less common. That year of secrets had strained her heart while the fighting strained her body. Nyx wished she could go through life and never lie again, but knew that was an impossibility. Cronus liked to talk of magic having costs, and that was one of them. To live the life of a guilty woman and know she could not be herself; that was something Nyx had been willing to pay for love.

What more would she give? What more would she risk to ensure the safety of her world and of her happiness?

Nyx knew now what she would have experienced in Vigil’s Keep in that first life. She could have lead something of a happy existence there, even without Alistair. Or even if he had been king, and not hers. It still makes her chest tight to consider such a thing, but she would have lived through it. Maybe if she’d let go, let the body burn, it would have been alright.

Though she was very glad to know he was waiting for her in Denerim.

Nyx could not do things like she once did. Not anymore. People were counting on her, as Hero and Queen, and she refused to disappoint them. Every risk had to be calculated for the best outcome. She would only choose to pay what costs she had the right to pay. To use someone else’s life for her goals, unwillingly taken, was not the way of things. Nyx had to start setting a good example for the people of Denerim, because everyone was watching.

Adults and children alike expected much of her. And if she was ever to bear Alistair’s heirs, she would need to be a good mother, as well. And so she continued to run hypotheticals in her head.

Morrigan’s potion would allow them to become fertile, enough for the night of conception. While that letter said there were “no costs you aren’t willing to pay,” Morrigan knew what Nyx had done in the past. If it required more death, it might not be ruled out as something Nyx wouldn’t want. Though it may have been a sunk cost, a life already given for the potion’s creation.

It was magic, something forbidden and likely dark, which meant it had consequences. The sender gave Alistair extra pause, though Nyx was certain Morrigan could be trusted, overall. She’d made the mistake of doubting her once before; never again.

Yet, life with a child was something Nyx couldn’t stop dreaming of. It plagued her sleep, and she wasn’t certain that they were all nightmares. She remembered the faces of the fake children in the Fade, the ones that never were. If anything were ever to drive her to an extreme, again, it would be the death of a child. Perhaps that was what she risked. Alistair would, at least, be there to support her.

And truly, for the sake of having a child with him, she was tempted to try anything. Would she have simply done it if she never heard about Mhairi? She’d been hesitant before that, but after…?

It wasn’t a decision she could make alone. She needed Alistair in this. As if she hadn’t been missing him enough already. She could confide in him in ways that Cronus wasn’t good for, even if he did know all her secrets (and then some). It was hard enough hiding a lot of herself in the day to day, but to not have her partner right there at her side was like being very slowly stretched out on a torturer’s rack.

Even with Hera there, perhaps this would have been more bearable. Nyx had Cronus and Oghren at the start, and more recent additions of those who knew her secrets. She knew Anders had been told, Cronus had reported to her with alarming immediacy.

Though Nyx didn’t ask Anders about keeping quiet, his avoidance of Cronus at that point said that someone else had already handled that conversation with him. She wasn’t pleased with him for it, but Cronus wasn’t someone who could be told what to do. Not without there being something in it for him to gain.

Justice knew, too. She’d seen it in his reaction to her the very first time they’d met, in the Fade. She was almost grateful that she’d not needed to say anything. She was _definitely_ grateful he’d passed up the chance to lecture her on unjust actions.

Truth be told, she was lonely, here. Nyx could sense that this part of her life, here in the Keep, would soon be coming to an end. Yet, she didn’t find as much solace as she thought she might have from the idea of going back to Alistair. There she would still have to hide. She would always have to hide.

Nyx needed their trust. She needed her Grey Wardens to have faith in her plans and decisions. Honesty wasn’t going to ensure that. It might even provide the opposite, once showing the lengths she’d gone to at one point. But these were people who would fight to the death beside her. Didn’t she owe them something? At least a little piece of it?

She wanted to tell the truth so dearly that it burned in her stomach. She could hardly sleep with this on her mind, let alone her contemplations of motherhood. Nyx breathed deep, a palm over her belly. Her child deserved someone brave. Someone who did what was right, even when they were scared.

If Nyx had a future ahead of her, it would be one that she left a little more open.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

The morning was soft and warm; it’s gentle greeting filling the air with birdsong. One by one, each Warden shuffled down in some form of dress—a few chose to keep on their pajamas until they were more awake—and took a place at the table. Nyx had called for an early meeting, which would have produced more groans were their mouths not stuffed full of scones and fresh preserves.

There was an obvious tension as Nyx approached them. She wasn’t wearing the formal Grey Warden armor, like she chose to do when around the Keep. Instead she wore the famed dragonbone set that Wade had crafted before she faced off against the Archdemon. It was symbolic of something, but what that thing was, no one knew. She even had Stargazer on her back.

Nyx rested Stargazer against the side of the table and sat. She didn’t eat a bite, but drank a bit of piping hot tea. Her gaze was softer than most of them had expected for a sudden meeting that she’d attended in full armor.

A few of the Grey Wardens were tense in anticipation. Velanna and Nathaniel in particular ate slower and kept watching their Commander. Whenever she started to speak, they wanted their attention to be undivided, no matter how good the food before them was. Sigrun seemed unbothered and cheerful, in comparison, sucking a bit of strawberry jam from her fingers.

Cronus was the only one who looked bored. Sometimes he’d glance up with an amused expression, but then he’d go right back to rocking in his chair like he couldn’t wait to leave. He did seem happier when he pointed one of his glances at Anders, who jumped in response. But he sighed after Demeter caught him doing this, and stopped.

“I wanted to speak with all of you,” Nyx said finally. There had been no chatter, but there was an added silence as everyone stopped chewing or fidgeting. “The past few days have been difficult. Waiting for the enemy to make a move isn’t the best strategy, but for the moment, it’s all we’ve got. No more intel has come in about their location, and darkspawn sightings have been so scattered that it’s nearly impossible to pinpoint an origin. I want to thank all of you for the incredible patience you’ve proven capable of having.

“As your Commander, I am certain that when the time comes, you will all be fully capable. You have all kept up your training, built your teamwork, and made true Wardens of yourselves. Even the most unlikely among us are worthy of the place they have, here. I’m proud of you all.”

This lightened the mood, but only minimally. They suspected she had more to say, and they were right, but only Cronus knew with full certainty what was coming next.

Nyx felt time slow for her, just for a moment. Perhaps it was actual magic, used by someone in the room so she could breathe, or it was just her perception as she stared around her. She was anxious, but not the way she’d been before. Not to the point where she needed Hera to take her hands from her or for Alistair to hold her until she stopped shaking.

This wasn’t the Gauntlet she was about to face. There was no slain dragon laid out before her. She was doing this on her terms, because Nyx wanted to share the truth with people that she considered not only her allies, but her friends.

“My true name, my full name, is Nyx Mahariel Cousland Theirin. I was Mahariel before I was Cousland, and I was elven before I was human.”

Velanna already looked like she was prepared to scream. She nearly stood up, but Nathaniel gently held her back and shook his head. _Let her speak,_ his eyes said. Velanna formed fists, but released them shortly after, and returned to her chair.

Nyx continued her story. There was silence all the way to the end. She wasn’t sure she’d consider it a sign of respect, horror, or curiosity. Maybe some combination of the three. Or maybe they just had no idea what to say to such a confession. But they let her finish speaking, regardless of their reasons for doing so.

Moments passed, but it was not long after Nyx had finished when Velanna started up, spewing Dalish curses in common and elven alike. There was not a single Creator whose name was forgotten in her shouting, though the Dread Wolf was clearly the star of the show. Nathaniel didn't bother stopping her now, his eyes fixed on the table in front of him and his hands clasped tight. His fingers started turning white.

Cadmus looked around to see how the rest reacted, but they seemed mostly calm, despite a few pained looks. “How many of us already knew?” he asked.

“Most of you,” Nyx admitted. “For some I simply wanted you to hear it directly from me. The rest, I—”

“Selfish! There are things I thought only fools could do but I never thought someone I was beginning to respect would ever disappoint me so greatly. Not only was this for a shemlen, but you became one of them! How can I even believe that you were one of the People when you would abandon your heritage for something so vile?” Velanna said.

Nyx furrowed her brow. She was angrier for that than she would have expected. “My mistakes are my own and I deserve your anger for it, but my love is not some ugly thing. Human or not he is a kind and gracious man.”

“You were never even her…” Nathaniel mumbled.

“You shame the People! You shame us all with this stain on what you once were. You have no right to the elven name you spoke before. You are one of the shems now. Dread Wolf take you,” Velanna said, cursing Nyx again.

“The name is hers,” Cadmus defended. “She has made reparations for what she did. She knows she isn't like us anymore, _lethallan_ and it pains her. She told me as much.”

“You should have told me” Velanna insisted, pointing at Cadmus.

“It was not my secret to share.”

“Why kill my father? It wasn't your grudge to… I understand better the monster he became, but you could have taken him in. Charged him for his crimes and let his fate be decided by those with the right to decide such a thing. You aren't even… Why do I remember you as I do?”

“I lived life again, from the start, as Nyx Cousland. Those were my parents he murdered, even if they weren't originally. Your memories are not false. I'm sorry, Nathaniel. I hated lying to you.”

“And I hate that I've been lied to!” he declared, standing.

“Why now?” Sigrun asked, finally speaking. Her trust had been broken as much as the other two, if less personally. Which meant it still hurt, though she didn't feel indignant about it. “This could have torn the Wardens apart and left Amaranthine without a proper defense. Why not wait until we beat the enemy?”

“You will be putting your lives on the line for me. I recruited each and every one of you here, which means your lives from now on will always be my responsibility. You deserve candor. You deserve more than even that. But for now, this is the best I can think to offer, and I'm sorry for that. I know how much of a burden this secret is.”

“What's to stop me from telling everyone?” Velanna threatened.

Nyx paused, leveling her gaze. She kept her eyes soft, but her words firm. “They would see you as a fanatic. It could be construed as treasonous to say such things. I understand that you're angry with me, but please, don't do something that would only hurt you.”

“So we're under your thumb? Forever now? You can just have us beheaded like so many shem lords before you?” Velanna said.

Nyx retracted, “I didn't mean that as a threat. It's simply the truth of what would happen. I wouldn't encourage it, but I don't want to see you killed over this. I told you all because I care about you. Why would I wish this to harm you?”

“Nyx could have just as easily stayed silent,” Cronus reminded them. “Kept it to herself. She should have, but she's always been soft. Don't screw her over because she likes you lot.”

Sigrun stood up. Her height made it so only her eyes were above the table. Instead of staying there, she climbed onto the chair for a more commanding presence.

“I trust the Commander,” she declared. Velanna glared, but let her continue. “Maybe she lied to us about these things, and maybe there’s more to her than we knew, but the same could be said of any of us. You don’t know half the things I did when I was living in Orzammar. We have pasts, but Nyx let us in. Punishing her for trusting us…it just doesn’t feel right.”

Demeter stood next. “I agree. And even if you don’t, we have to work together. Even if you can’t trust Nyx, you should trust the Commander. If you want to save Amaranthine,” she looked to Velanna, “and if you want to save your sister, trust in the Warden Commander.”

Velanna’s jaw tightened. “I will not trust her,” she spat. “But I will do what I must to save Seranni. If that means following orders until this is completed, so be it.”

It was unsurprising that of those who didn’t know, Velanna would be the one unable to trust her again. Nathaniel was still painfully silent as he rose. They’d become friends, but it was possible this would be too much for him. It would hurt, but she would bear the loss if she had to.

“I won’t remain for long once the darkspawn are taken care of. I’ll oversee new recruitment measures, as I was meant to initially, then I’ll return to Denerim,” Nyx said. “If you must despise me, if you can never trust me again, I understand. You will not need to forgive me for these things. I didn’t want to lie any more than I had to.”

“Are we dismissed?” Nathaniel asked curtly.

Nyx nodded. “If you wish to be.”

He moved from his chair and the table, leaving them all behind as he hurried towards the armory. He was going to the training grounds after that, to shoot at those targets outside until his head cleared.

The rest dispersed slowly, until only Nyx and Cronus were left.

“Could it have gone better?” Nyx asked.

“Not by much. It could have been far worse, though, if it’s any consolation,” Cronus told her.

She sighed. “How long do we have?”

“Anywhere from two days to a week. Be ready,” he warned.

Nyx nodded. They would be.


	15. Leadership

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the end! The last chapter is chapter 20, so it’s a longer end than you guys probably expect, because I go a little beyond the Mother with this one.
> 
> I’ve also been working a lot on another idea I had for the Dragon Age universe. It is mostly unrelated to Warden Reborn, save for a very small connection, and involves a lot more original ideas, characters, and stories. In fact, it’s not even set within a current Dragon Age game, but in a series of hypotheticals on my wishlist for DA4. Meaning yes, it’s in Tevinter.
> 
> I’m not sure when I’ll start posting that, but it might be in between the end of this one and the start of my DA2 fic that continues in Warden Reborn verse. Either way, I hope you guys will check out any and all of my future work!

A shout bellowed through the halls of the Keep, three days after Nyx had shared her secrets. It echoed in every corridor, accompanied by the sound of heavy and urgent footsteps. It called for the Commander, desperate and frightful.

At last, the owner of the voice found Nyx in the Keep’s small library. Seneschal Varel had been looking for her, apparently, because it was time to mobilize.

“There are reports of attacks in the city,” he said, breathing heavily. “Darkspawn, and lots of them. This was planned, I’m sure of it. We need as many of the Wardens as we can send. I believe this is the attack we were waiting for.”

Nyx nodded. “Help me get the rest of the Wardens. Gather everyone in the main hall.”

She went to get Cronus first, who was already up and waiting. “There was a window of a few minutes, but I got the feeling it was today, around this moment.”

Cronus moved on to the hall, while Nyx found Demeter, Anders, Cadmus, and Nathaniel. Things were still strange between Nyx and Nathaniel, but when he heard her explain that Amaranthine was under attack, he didn’t hesitate to rise and run to join the others. The rest were gathered by the seneschal, and were waiting for Nyx and the others when she arrived.

Everyone was caught up on the situation. The elven girl who had run south with the news had a blanket around her shoulders, shaken from the sight of the attacks just barely beginning. Nyx complimented her on her bravery, and ignored the small noise from Velanna. This was no show for her, and it was certainly not time to allow the Order to fall apart.

“Amaranthine has been undermanned for weeks. She may not last long,” the captain of the keep’s guard, Garavel, noted.

“Our forces cannot move quickly enough,” seneschal Varel said, “but a small band could make it in time. Warden Commander, you should lead a group of Wardens into the city.”

“Fighting a horde of darkspawn with almost certain death awaiting?” Sigrun said, sounding more excited than ever before. “Don’t you even think of leaving me here, Nyx.”

Nyx almost envied the enthusiasm. “I won’t deny willing help. Sigrun, you’ll come with me. Cronus, your advice will be invaluable.”

“As always,” Cronus agreed.

“Oghren, you’ve been with me the longest. I wouldn’t dream of leaving without you,” Nyx said. “Anders, your magic will come in handy when any of us are wounded. And Nathaniel…” She breathed deep. “You’ve done so much already to redeem your family name. You don’t need to prove anything to me, but I trust your bow arm better than anyone else’s.”

“You know,” Nathaniel said, starting quiet, “when you let me join you, I wasn’t certain what you were thinking. But now you are one of my dearest friends, and this Order is like my second family. I would be honored to fight at your side. Even if we face death.”

“Well, I’m already dead,” Sigrun butted in. “I’ve got nothing to lose!”

Anders took Demeter’s hand and squeezed it. They would have to part ways for the first time in a while. It had been hard enough, separated while she trained with Cronus. Now they would be even further from one another.

“You’ll come back,” Demeter said, just loud enough for Anders to hear. “I know it.”

“Something _he_ told you?” Anders asked.

Demeter shook her head. “Just something I have to believe.”

“Then it’s decided,” the seneschal said. “Commander Nyx will lead her group to Amaranthine. Take the swiftest horses in the Keep; we will have no delays. As for the rest, who should lead those left behind?”

The decision surprised Nyx for how easy it was to make. “Cadmus Andras, the Warden from Orlais. By rights he has seniority over everyone else, including myself, and by skill he has proven more than worthy of the position.”

“I accept the responsibility, Commander. I will not let you down,” Cadmus assured her.

Nyx knew he wouldn’t. He might even do a better job than she ever could.

“Then let’s get a move on,” Nyx said. “Wardens, protect the Keep until I can return. We’ll have this settled and keep Amaranthine from further harm. The darkspawn will torment us no longer.”

“You sound certain that this is their last strike, Commander,” Varel said.

“I am. They’ve grown desperate after all of our successes. This attack is sudden, but we are not unprepared for it, and we are not going to allow either the city or the Keep to fall,” Nyx declared.

Cronus had ensured that her words would be true, after all. He had made certain that the dwarven brothers were doing their part in building fortifications as well as bombs to attack the enemy with. Master Wade had armed the guard to the teeth with the finest silverite available. Merchants traded their finest goods with them, they were stocked on any kind of potion a person could possibly need, and word of the Grey Wardens’ successes had brought supporters in from all across Ferelden. They were prepared, here.

Now all that needed protection was the city and its inhabitants.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

Sigrun had never felt so alive since she’d died. She’d watched as Nyx practically flew off her mount and into the ongoing battle, just before doing something similar for herself. Anders helped Sigrun from the tall horse they’d shared, then let her run ahead into the field.

The darkspawn were on them in no time, but Sigrun let her daggers do the work they were literally made to do. Each delicate slice of their flesh left them bleeding their poison blood, slowly weakening each attempt they made to attack. When the moment was right, she’d sink the pointy end where it needed to go and let the creatures fall at her feet. They only twitched for a moment before stilling completely.

Nathaniel backed her up from afar, sinking arrows into legs or arms to slow them, and skulls to stop the monsters completely. They shared poisons and bombs when they each deemed it necessary, though Sigrun had a preference for the latter. The iced variety made the darkspawn like living sculptures that she chipped away at, removing frozen limbs from frozen bodies before the effect wore off and they thawed in a hundred pieces.

Sigrun did feel a bit of envy when she caught sight of Nyx, cleaving through enemies with an apparent ease. The woman barely worked up a sweat, even as she hefted Stargazer for another swing. There was a reason she was their Commander, and it wasn’t just because she’d killed an Archdemon. Though it had helped make the case, probably.

A scream drew Sigrun’s attention back to the field, and she ran through the huddling darkspawn. Cloaked from sight, they left her be. It made it easier to weave through their crowding and find the source of the distressed cries she’d heard.

To her shock, Mischa was batting off one of the Children, still in grub stage. That didn’t make the thing any less terrifying than its full-grown counterparts, though it was slightly less of an immediate threat. Still, those sunken, black eyes and face like a human baby, plus the endless rows of teeth… Sigrun did not blame Mischa for screaming.

Unlike Sigrun, the other dwarf was armed only with a broom. It just barely kept the darkspawn from biting at her ankles, and even then it got closer with each attempt. Too close and it could infect Mischa with the taint. If that happened, even if she survived the rest of the night, she might die soon after.

Sigrun rushed in, hardly thinking of any consequences for herself, and kicked the creature away from Mischa. She arced her entire arm and body down to bring a dagger crashing through the darkspawn’s head. It squealed and squelched and squirmed at this attack, but was dead in no time.

“Hurry into the city! The people are taking refuge in the Chantry. You should be safe there, for a time,” Sigrun said, turning back to Mischa.

But the other dwarf was frozen in her fear. “I won’t make it that far,” she said through a hiccup and a sob. “There’s too many of them.”

Right, she was no Duster. She’d been merchant class, and probably only ever held a blade to sell it to someone. Sigrun forgot sometimes what it was like for people who never really fought a day in their lives.

“I’ll just have to carve a path for you, then,” Sigrun said, determined. “You _will_ get to safety. I promise.”

Mischa appeared unconvinced, even as she nodded. She let Sigrun lead the way as she faced off against a hurlock, a genlock, and two more of the Children (one fully grown and another grub). Mischa threw rocks in an attempt to help, but the best it did was provide a distraction to make the darkspawn more vulnerable when Sigrun attacked. The worse was when it drew the grub close to Mishca, but Nyx was nearby and paying enough attention to the scene around her that it barely even got close.

“Come on!” Sigrun urged. She found a member of the guard that was still able-bodied enough to assist. “Get this woman into the Chantry! She’s a civilian of the city!”

Mischa stared at Sigrun in awe. “I owe you my life,” she breathed.

“Consider this repayment. I already owed you,” Sigrun said. “Just promise me you’ll keep safe.”

Mischa nodded. “Thank you, Sigrun. You really have changed. The Legion was the right choice for you.”

Sigrun felt a small swell of joy in her chest. It was two parts pride, and at least one part something else. There was too much going on to examine what that other part was.

She swiveled on her heel and rushed back into the fray, helping with the last of the darkspawn. When at last the final of their number fell, so did she. There was barely a breath left in her as Sigrun sat, panting.

“Things are never boring with you, huh?” she said to Nyx.

Normally that at least got a little smile, but Nyx was fully in Commander mode. Which meant she had her focus on figuring out what their next steps were. They approached the captain of Amaranthine’s guard, who had been fighting alongside them outside the gates.

“Warden Commander, I am glad that you arrived when you did,” he said, giving the traditional salute, “but I fear there is little to be done now.”

“We came as quickly as we were able. I refuse to give up on the city so soon,” Nyx said, brow furrowing.

“We may not have much of a choice. A couple of nights ago, a swarm of those gruesome creatures emerged from _beneath_ the city. They spread pestilence and destroyed everything they touched. Then, at dawn, the other darkspawn attacked,” the captain of the guard explained. I’m afraid it’s simply too late; Amaranthine is lost.”

“Do people yet live?” Nyx asked.

“Very few, wh—”

“Then it is not lost,” she insisted. “To abandon Amaranthine now… I will not allow that. Not when there is a chance of saving these people.”

“I might not agree with that decision, Warden Commander, but I will respect whatever order you give. Though I would recommend simply burning what remains of the city. Take out as many darkspawn as we can with it.”

“That is horrible! How could you even think of condemning so many lives like that?” Anders said, hands tightening into fists.

“I agree with Anders. To leave the city to burn is cowardly. We are Wardens. If this is not something we are fit to face, then we never deserved to be recruited in the first place,” Nathaniel said.

Sigrun nodded fiercely. “I am not leaving Mischa to die just after saving her.”

The captain nearly made another counterpoint, but a commotion from the south had them all turning to see what happened. Another darkspawn was coming near, but unarmed and talking. It was one of the more intelligent ones. Question was, who was it loyal to?

When the guards rose their swords against the darkspawn, it lifted its hands in surrender. “Peace! Do not be killing!” it pleaded. “Only talk. Architect has a message, for Grey Warden!”

Nyx stepped forward. “Speak, then. What message does your leader send?”

“The Mother’s army, it marches to Vigil’s Keep. She attacks now!”

Anders paled. “Demi…” he said, nearly breathless.

“The Architect,” the darkspawn continued, “he sends me to warn you.”

“To what end?” Nathaniel wondered aloud.

“Does it matter? They’re in trouble! We have to help!” Anders said.

“Yes, you must save the keep, then finish the Mother in her lair,” the darkspawn agreed. “The Grey Wardens are valuable to the Architect. The Mother, she knows this. She strikes where he is vulnerable.”

Nyx stared downward. It was no easy choice. There were people she’d come to care about back in that Keep. It was not as comforting as the castle in Denerim, but it was as close to a second home as it got. She didn’t want to abandon it, or Cadmus, or Demeter, or any of them. But how could she stand by and let the city burn?

“They are strong,” Cronus said. “You built a sufficient fortress. No one has to die.”

“Are you certain?” Nyx asked.

The nod she expected came, the look in his eyes more reassuring than she would have predicted it to be.

“We still ought to send a word of warning. One of us has to go back,” Nyx said.

“I’ll go!” Anders volunteered, almost too quickly.

“No,” Nyx said. “I know your friend is there, and I’m worried for her as well. But I need you with me. The battle we face will be just as difficult, if not moreso. A mission like this calls for swiftness, stealth, and the bravery only one who has already died could have.” She looked to Sigrun with a smile, which was returned in full.

“You can put your faith in me, Commander. I’ll be there quick as I can to warn them!” she declared. “Either way, it would be something exciting for me.”

Anders looked between Nyx and Sigrun, but did not argue the decision. He knew it made sense, and could not leave Nyx when she was counting on him. No matter how much he wanted to.

“Sigrun, before you go,” Anders said, lifting a hand to his ear. “Take this with you, and give it to Demeter. Then tell her I’ll be wanting it back, so she’d better not get it all covered in blood or something disgusting like that.”

Sigrun took it and slipped the earring into a pouch. “I’ll let her know.”

They wished her luck on her way, though there was no more time to see her off proper. They had to plan on how they would protect the city. Before that, even, they had to deal with their messenger.

“What should I do with him?” the captain asked. He may have helped, but it could have just been a trap. And he’s still a darkspawn.”

“Though not incorrect, I’m reluctant to kill him the same as his brethren,” Nyx said. “It’s possible he _did_ truly come to help, and he may have more information besides. The location of the Mother’s lair, for example, which we don’t yet know.”

“So what do you propose we do?”

“Keep him alive, at least for now. What happens after the fighting is done will be your decision to make.”

The captain agreed to this solution. “You Wardens should head into the chantry. There will be supplies there to heal your wounds and ready your weapons for the next battle. I will gather the remaining guardsmen as soon as I am able. We will fight at your side, Commander.”

The Grey Wardens moved into the city. Anders had already taken care of healing them, but taking what food they were offered would be necessary. They slept in shifts until word came that they needed to be ready, again. With as much energy as they could manage to gather, under the circumstances, Nyx and her fellow Wardens stepped back into the fray.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

Cadmus felt his stomach sink at the sight of Sigrun running back, covered in far more blood than she’d left with. Not hers (he hoped) but still the sight alarmed him. He ran forward to meet her, but she needed to stop and catch her breath first.

“Get her a drink!” Cadmus called to whoever would follow that command. A couple of servants scurried off to find water, and returned in moments with a full waterskin.

Sigrun took small gulps at a time, drinking then breathing, drinking then breathing. Someone else had been bright enough to grab her a wet rag, so she could wipe some of the darkspawn blood of off her. Close as she was now, Cadmus could tell the difference. Tainted blood was a little closer to a deep brown. Dried, it was harder to tell, but trained Wardens learned the difference from experience alone.

Finally, she was ready to speak. “There’s a darkspawn army heading here, to the Keep. We got warning just as we arrived in Amaranthine.”

“From whom?” Cadmus asked.

“Well, a darkspawn,” Sigrun said, her face betraying her own incredulous feelings. “He said the Architect wanted to help because he needs Wardens, and the Mother wanted us gone because of that. It’s kind of insane...but what hasn’t been, lately?”

Cadmus sighed. “Though true, this could have been meant as a trap. I’m glad you made it here in one piece.” He ran a hand through his hair, mentally going through everything that needed to be done. Nyx had entrusted him with Vigil’s Keep, and he would not disappoint her. Nor would he let these people come to unnecessary harm.

“Close the gates again! Be on guard! We are to anticipate an attack against us by dawn tomorrow!” Cadmus declared. “We will keep our heads. We have prepared for just such an event. Our walls were strengthened by dwarven craftsmanship. Our defenses armed by the finest smith in Ferelden. Perhaps even all of Thedas. We are ready for them, and that is what they did not anticipate.

“I want archers on patrol on the walls. Stock the trebuchets and have men standing by to use them. We want to keep them as far as we can as long as we can. Once they are close enough, the other Wardens and I will head into the field and start our own attack. Followed by the soldiers here. You may not be Grey Wardens, but you stand with us.

“Anyone with skills in healing, prepare salves, tonics, poultices… Any supplies you might require should be at the ready. We will not die without a fight!”

Cadmus went towards the gate, with the other Wardens following his lead. He watched a quick and private exchange between Sigrun and Demeter, and something exchanging hands. There was the faintest glint off of some small golden thing. Anders, most likely, sending a trinket for his friend not to worry.

“Wardens,” Cadmus said, drawing Demeter’s attention away from the earring. She tucked it quickly into a pocket while Cadmus continued, “I have watched you all train. I’ve trained alongside you. I know you are all skilled, worthy warriors, and I am proud to stand among you. There will be a great number of darkspawn out there against not so many of us. But we are clever and strong, and we can work together—and with the soldiers of this Keep—to defeat the darkspawn. In war, victory.”

“In peace, vigilance,” Demeter recited.

“In death, sacrifice,” Justice finished. Whether that was something he had learned or some dredged up memory of Kristoff’s, Cadmus couldn’t say. There was a hint of irony in the spirit who could not truly die speaking those words.

“We will win this night for the Order,” Cadmus said. He whistled to call his wolf, Sunburst, to his side. She’d been moping since Nyx left with Perseus, but now she could sense the danger in the air. She stood near Cadmus, growling at the gate.

“When that opens, we fight.”

They stood together, watching, waiting, vigilant. The war was on its way.


	16. Good Intentions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi whoops!!! I have been really distracted lately and put up chapter fifteen again initially! Sorry about that guys!
> 
> Anyway... [Here’s some cool battle music.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fyCKoJzKnz8) You’ll know when to start it. Let's do this.

Nyx blanched as they approached the lair. Seeing it marked on her map, she wasn’t certain why she recognized it, but she did. She had been here once before to find Morrigan, fighting a Valterral in the process. Her eyes went wide as the memories rushed back, a horrified feeling she’d nearly forgotten sinking into her.

Quick as she was able, she steeled herself, but could not help the hollowed out feeling of her stomach that slowly rose its way into her throat. Cronus grabbed her arm. He’d been watching her for some time, without her even noticing.

“You won’t fight your best if you’re panicking,” he said.

Not as comforting as Hera or Alistair would have been, but it was something.

“Are you alright?” Anders asked. “You look— Well you’re always pale but you don’t look _good_ is what I’m saying. Because usually you are both good-looking and pale.”

“I believe she gets your point, Anders,” Nathaniel said, sighing. “It’s best if we don’t stop here, but if you need a moment…”

“I’m fine,” Nyx said, shaking her head. “This place brought back memories. Of the Blight.” She lied without thinking, so used to the facade. But then she corrected, “Not of the Blight. I’m sorry, I didn’t actually mean to lie that time. I mean, I did but…” She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. It helped a little more. “I’ve been here before. About a year from now, an old friend will be here. Morrigan.” Nyx looked to Cronus as she spoke the name.

He drew up his shoulders, his eyes actually opening wide for a moment. He hadn’t known. He hadn’t been able to see Morrigan’s future since she blocked it. There were other things, related to Flemeth, and relating to other people in his future. They became blurry, and even stranger, some became green. A bright, flashing green, like lightning. Cronus had no idea what to make of it.

“I don’t suppose she’s here now,” Cronus said, trying his best to sound composed.

“This seems like the sort of place a woman with a baby should avoid,” Nyx reasoned.

Thoughts of the future were calming. Strange how it had been so turned around before. She’d accepted that the past had nothing else for her, and it would stay as it was. The future was where all the potentials were, for better or worse. And the thoughts of Cronus’ child reminded Nyx of that more than anything.

She brushed Perseus’ head, ruffling his ears, and started towards the Mother’s lair. Every darkspawn in her path, Children or otherwise, fell. Stargazer proved worthy of the fight, swinging with ease with each enemy they faced. They could be swarmed and surrounded, but still, the group managed.

Cronus focused his energy on attacks and Anders worked on healing. It made a good balance between them, proving the usefulness of mages of different specialties. Anders did keep a particular eye on Nathaniel, even though he remained furthest from the darkspawn. They still hadn’t finished what they’d started, that one night, and he was determined to try again.

“Anders!” Nathaniel called. “On your right!”

Whoops.

Too much focus on his love life in the middle of battle, he supposed. A quick call of ice through the Veil and he bought himself time enough to back away while Oghren smashed the thing with his axe.

“Thank you, my bearded friend,” Anders said.

“Stop staring at your boyfriend’s arse when we’re surrounded by darkspawn!” Oghren said.

Whoops, again. Anders started to correct the dwarf, explaining that Nathaniel wasn’t _really_ his boyfriend or anything like that, but Oghren was already running off. The clarification would have been wasted on him anyway, as Anders wasn’t sure what he and Nate were. Or what Karl would think of it.

“Anders, focus!” Nathaniel said, much closer this time. “I’ve been firing at double speed to cover you.”

“For which I am very grateful,” Anders said.

“I’m serious. Don’t get yourself killed.”

That was probably as close as Anders would get to the warmer, fuzzier side of Nathaniel Howe, for the time being. It was good enough.

Nyx pressed onward, unaware of the bit of drama going on behind her. She just pushed through and pushed through, focused on the goal. Kill the bad guys and go home, that was all she needed to do. It was a simple enough task, and one that she’d become quite good at.

She would have been disturbed by that knowledge had the body count not largely consisted of darkspawn. But she knew she’d solved more issues than she cared to with the edge of a blade instead of the edge of her words.

The tower came into sight at last, and she was ready to step inside, but a roar could be heard from above. Right. Last time she’d been here, there wasn’t only a valterral, but a dragon cult. And what’s a dragon cult without the—

“Dragon!” Oghren shouted.

“We can see that,” Anders said.

“No time to argue,” Nyx said. “Oghren, you and I are up close, as always. Perseus, stay on the tail or the side. Run if it looks ready to strike. Keep safe. The rest of you, stay far. Cronus, focus on offensive magic, but wait for it to show its element so you know what kind to use. Then enchant our weaponry, as well. Anders, I want you supporting me and Oghren. Any spells to give us a boost or help us when we’re down, use them. Maintain your mana in case we need to be healed. Nathaniel, you’ve never faced a dragon, so we’ll point to weak spots for you.

“Keep aware of your surroundings! It may call on dragonlings for assistance. Understood?”

Everyone shouted to the affirmative at once. Finally, the dragon landed, shaking the ground beneath their feet. Those unprepared for it stumbled, but managed not to fall. As for the rest, this was not their first dragon. Nyx only hoped it would be her last.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

None of them were certain how they had the energy to press on after the dragon, but they managed. They had to. They were the only thing standing between Ferelden and another darkspawn crisis. Nyx didn’t want another Blight. It was the last thing she wanted.

She breathed heavily as she pulled Stargazer from yet another darkspawn corpse. Between the fighting and the endless towers with their spiraling staircases, she was out of breath. The rest were about the same way. Even Anders was panting. She wondered if running out of mana exhausted the same way muscles did when the body ran out of energy.

“Is everyone alright?” Nyx asked.

“We’re not...some soft...nug-lickers,” Oghren said, between heaving breaths. “We...are _fine!_ ”

“No need to be defensive,” Nathaniel chided. “I am alright. A few scratches. Anders has healed the worst of it away.”

“Speaking of, he’s not looking so good,” Cronus noted.

Nyx stepped a little closer, to get a better look. Anders was already leaning on his staff, but unlike the others, he wasn’t catching his breath as quickly. He was sweatier than usual, too. Even with exertion, it was strange just how much. It wasn’t until he vomited over the edge of the bridge they stood on that she realized what was wrong.

“Poison,” Nyx breathed. “Nathaniel, you carry antidotes, don’t you?”

“Yes, but this is… It’s from the Children, isn’t it? We don’t really have a cure for that,” Nathaniel said.

“I’m willing to try anything,” Nyx said.

“The wrong one might make it worse. Or kill him!” Nathaniel said, covering the pouch he kept the antidotes in with his hand. No one was going to reach them without his permission. “Can’t you use your magic, Cronus?”

“I can alleviate the symptoms, but otherwise this is just one he’ll have to sweat out,” Cronus said.

“He could die if we leave it!” Nathaniel argued. “Besides, we need him. And don’t even think of leaving him alone in this Maker forsaken place.”

“I’m not saying that,” Cronus said, rubbing his forehead. “Show me the antidotes. I’ll tell you the best one to give him.”

“That...none of them will work properly.”

“Won’t know that for sure until I see what you have. But trust me when I say, Anders _can’t_ die. He never does. Not here. Not now,” Cronus said.

“What are you talking about?” Nyx asked. She understood some of it, understood that Cronus was going to look into the effects of the antidotes in possible futures. The concept of someone being protected by fate, however, had never come up before. “Are you telling me—?”

“No time to discuss that now,” Cronus groaned. “Just let me cure him so we can get on with killing darkspawn?”

Nathaniel remained unconvinced, but pulled out the vials of various antidotes anyway. He had extras of the one used against magebane, a fact that Cronus did not miss. Better than seeing Nathaniel use the poison itself, at least. That wasn’t the one Cronus plucked from his hands, however.

The one he chose was an opaque white, which he mixed with a small amount of lyrium. Anders needed the mana boost, anyway, and it would enhance the effects of the antidote. He swirled the closed vial to let the solutions mix. Nyx tried hard not to think of the Changeling, mixing blood and lyrium. She always had trouble with Cronus’ eyes, but moreso today.

“Drink up,” Cronus said, thrusting the vial into Anders’ palm.

Anders took it in one gulp, but sputtered and coughed soon after. “You couldn’t warn me about the taste?”

Cronus shrugged. “I wasn’t sure it would be so bad with the lyrium in it. My mistake.”

Anders gave him a dirty look, but wiped his mouth. The taste probably had something to do with the bile that had run up his body, at least in part, but he wouldn’t say so out loud. Not with Cronus being...himself.

They took another few moments to recuperate, but knew they couldn’t wait forever. More darkspawn would come for them, or the Mother would send them regardless to spread them out on the surface. Which Nyx wouldn’t allow, so long as she had a say.

They moved on to the next staircase, going as fast as they could while also moving with care. They were a bit small, and sloped on the edges. Time and wear had forced them smooth, which meant the stairs were slippery, as well. They’d managed to fight darkspawn on earlier sets of stairs, but with their limbs starting to scream from overuse, it was getting harder.

What awaited them at the bottom wasn’t an ordinary darkspawn, however. Nyx recognized the figure, with his tall hat and masked face. The Architect had been waiting for them. Beside him was the dwarven woman they’d seen before, in the mines, and a young elf with short hair and Dalish tattoos. Seranni.

She looked among them, but saw that her sister was not there. “Velanna is not with you. I had hoped to explain things to her myself, but… Are you certain that she is safe? Did you receive our message about the Keep?”

Nyx nodded. “Velanna, among all the other Grey Wardens, will be safe.”

Seranni was not surprised in the least at the news that her sister was a Warden. Perhaps the Architect had known, and thus told her. Or one of many spies had spread the news along to her ear. Either way, she was consoled enough to step back. The dwarven woman had her sword still drawn and did not budge.

The Architect made his way closer to the group, floating while sparks of magic flew from beneath his feet. Was he even more hideous under that mask? Or was it purely to add to his mysterious and threatening air? Though for that, he wasn’t really protecting himself in any mistaken attempt to intimidate them. Instead he seemed somber, almost melancholy.

His hands were neatly folded in front of him. The Architect stood a little straighter as Nyx and the others came further down the steps until they stood on equal ground. He did not move away, or attempt to stop them.

Instead, he was almost cordial. “And so we meet again,” he said.

The dwarf gripped her sword tighter, starting towards them in an effort to threaten the Grey Wardens. Nyx didn’t flinch.

“No, Utha,” the Architect said, his voice almost pained. “That is not how this must begin.”

Utha lowered her weapon, but maintained the scowl on her face. Even as she stepped backward, she kept a watchful eye fixed on the Grey Wardens. Unlike Seranni, she said nothing.

“I owe you an apology, Commander. When we last met, I intended to explain myself. Fate, however, intervened,” the Architect said.

Nyx let her skepticism show clear in her expression. “There were many opportunities for you to speak.”

“Would you have let me?”

“I am now.”

This felt familiar. Eerily so, despite the fact that this person was not someone she’d really interacted with so directly before. No, the person Nyx recalled was someone with dark blue eyes, and magic she could not possibly comprehend. The only remnant of him was standing behind her, watching and waiting to see what she would decide. Cronus already knew the Architect and his secrets.

“I feared you would misunderstand, as the rest of your order did. I send the Withered to ask for the Grey Wardens’ help. I should have anticipated that you might view our approach as an attack. I am rarely able to judge how your kind will react. It was most unfortunate.”

Nyx trembled. “Unfortunate?” she said, teeth clenched. “People were _slaughtered._ How are we expected to believe that it was meant in peace when so many died?”

“None of mine survived the night, if you would remember,” the Architect reasoned. “Your people fought first. Even had the darkspawn laid down their arms, would you expect Wardens so accustomed to killing my kind to listen when they began to speak?”

“If you realize that, you should have known better in the first place,” Nathaniel said.

“Perhaps. It would not be the first mistake I’ve ever made. Though it will hopefully be my last,” the Architect said.

“What of the men that were taken?” Nyx asked. “If the attack that night was your doing, then the Grey Wardens who disappeared were because of you, as well.”

“I’m afraid they were brought to me already dead. I confess that I needed their blood, the same way your Order needs ours. It is why I took yours in the mines. Things have not gone as I planned,” the Architect said. “I only ask that you hear me out. Should you still wish to slay me afterwards, you may try.”

Nyx had never been so furious in her life. She’d hated the Archdemon for taking Alistair, once, but it was more like a mindless beast doing as it was meant to. This was a creature that could think, reason, and feel. And a darkspawn at that. Every instinct in her body vibrated with the urge to kill him outright.

She felt a hand around her wrist. Cronus shook his head at her. “Let him explain.”

Nyx yanked her hand away, but turned back to the Architect. “Go ahead.”

The Architect nodded once in thanks. “My kind has ever been driven to seek out the Old Gods. This is our nature. When we find one, a Blight is begun. Each time, we attack your surface lands, and you fight back until we are defeated. To break the cycle, my brethren must be freed of their compulsion. For that, I need Grey Warden blood.”

“What?” Nyx said in utter disbelief. “How?”

“In order to become what you are, you drink the blood of my kind. To transform,” the Architect explained. “Similarly, _we_ must transform. I have created a version of your Joining that uses the blood of Grey Wardens. You take the taint into yourself. What we take is your resistance.

“That is how my brethren are feed. In your blood lies the key to their immunity against the call of the Old Gods.”

“I like my blood where it is,” Anders said, still a bit dizzy from being poisoned. “In my veins.”

“The Wardens _are_ supposed to stop the Blight. We’ll be retired and talking about the glory days in no time!” Oghren said.

“But how does this change them? Is this why we have seen darkspawn who are able to speak?” Nyx asked.

“In short, yes. Once they are freed, the darkspawn think for themselves. They speak. They act. Some, however, have reacted poorly. They are flawed and they rage against me. The Mother gathers them to stop me…as she seeks to stop you,” the Architect said. “I cannot defeat the Mother alone, and I cannot free the darkspawn unless she is defeated. Our goals are the same.”

“Darkspawn or no, he has a good point,” Nathaniel said. To hear him speak was a surprise to Nyx, but she let him finish. “Do we really want to keep killing each other forever?”

“Help me kill the Mother, and after it is done, I will leave to continue my work,” the Architect told Nyx.

“What about you, then?” Nyx asked. “Who freed you?”

“I was born as I am, an outsider amongst my kind. Why? I do not know. Why do some of your kind possess magic while others do not? I have no answers.”

“And the Mother? Who is she, truly?”

“My most flawed creation,” the Architect said. His head fell, hanging in shame. “Freedom drove her mad, and she has poisoned the minds of the others. She has influence with the ones who have not been freed, and she gathers them as an army. I do not seek to rule my brethren. I only seek to release them from their chains.”

“Regardless of your aims, the way you have conducted your plans cannot continue. Taking Wardens...taking _us_ against our will to take our blood!” Nyx said.

“The first blood came from Utha, freely given,” the Architect said. The dwarf behind him bowed when her name was mentioned. “She was a Grey Warden, as you are, and joined us…many years ago. She volunteered, understanding my efforts. Given the choice, others of your Order may do so as well.”

Nyx lowered her head in contemplation. No more Blights. No more killer darkspawn. She would already be leaving behind the Wardens to return to Denerim, but this was a chance to ensure that no one would have to stay. That the peace could last. That no other good men would be sacrificed to the darkspawn.

Tamlen. Duncan. Riordan. Mhairi. Kristoff. And once, though no longer, Alistair.

“What if you’re wrong? What if instead of the Blights this just brings about something worse?” Anders said.

“It is a chance I am willing to take. For my kind, and for the lives of those who have thus far thrown themselves at the Blight in order to prevent it from destroying us all. We cannot be certain of anything, but I believe that my plan can truly help achieve a better understanding between the darkspawn and the rest of this world,” the Architect said.

A risk, but one well worth taking.

“Then we agree,” Nyx said. “You will be given samples of Warden blood from willing participants. You will also be an ally to the Order. Whatever information you have of dangers in the Deep Roads or on the surface, we would expect you to share. And if your plan appears to endanger anyone beyond its worth…” Her shoulders tensed. “Be warned that this alliance will be taken with the utmost sincerity and you will be under a great deal of scrutiny.”

“I would expect no less from you, Warden Commander. I thank you, regardless, for taking this leap of faith. I hope that I prove worthy of your trust, even if skepticism still remains,” the Architect said. “The Mother lies ahead, Warden. I cannot approach her physically—her Children protect her from my power. But when you reach her, I will do whatever I can to help you. You have my promise.”

“If playing with their newfound minds keeps the darkspawn away from Orzammar, I’m happy,” Oghren said.

“It will certainly keep things interesting,” Cronus said. “Though I suspect he’s not one to go down easy, either. Not if he’s anything like the other one.”

“Other one?” Nyx said.

“Ah. Thinking aloud. Don’t mind me,” Cronus said, waving her concerns away. “I just wanted him to know that I know what he’s done. And what he _really_ is.”

She furrowed her brow, but made a mental note to bother him for details later. Or maybe not. What he knew was so dangerous, she wasn’t sure if it was worth it anymore.

“Let’s get a move on then,” Nyx said. “Seranni, your sister—”

“Tell her I’m safe,” Seranni said. “But that I must stay where I am. I believe in this. I will visit with her, if she needs to be convinced.”

Nyx nodded. Velanna was unlikely to ever take her Commander’s word ever again, now that she knew of Nyx’s secrets. Having Seranni explain it for herself would be the only thing to convince Velanna. And she would appreciate the chance to say goodbye.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

The Mother awaited their arrival with all the patience a mad broodmother could possess. They had all seen broodmothers before, but getting so close, Anders and Nathaniel expressed their disgust.

“They just keep getting bigger and uglier…” Anders said.

“This must be the Mother. Should have known it would be one of...one of those,” Nathaniel said, wrinkling his nose.

Nyx didn’t blame him. She was not only an awful sight to behold, but this place reeked of taint, death, and refuse. It was familiar, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t sickening. Nyx was just glad she’d gained something of a strong stomach with all she’d been through, otherwise she’d be on her hands and knees giving up what little she’d managed to eat between all the fighting.

“Now the pieces fall into place,” the so-called Mother said, tentacles writhing. “The Grey Warden comes, the instrument of the Father! Oh, and the Fa—”

“Shut up already,” Cronus said, stepping forward. “Maker, these things just love to hear themselves talk.”

“Yes, it reminds me of someone,” Anders said under his breath.

“I assume you mean the Architect,” Nyx said, joining Cronus. “We are not following his command. We are here because the lives of innocents and Grey Wardens have been sacrificed to some darkspawn war. We’re here to put an end to it.”

The Mother laughed, her raspy voice giving Nyx goosebumps. “You probably think the Father is so helpful, don’t you? First he takes our music—our beautiful music—then he abandons us! Leaves us with nothing.”

A shimmering form appeared beside Nyx and Cronus. The Architect stood with them, in appearance alone. He was but an image, created by magic, but still had something of a presence. A chilling one, at that.

“I did what I believed was best. Had I known what it would have done to your mind, perhaps I would have chosen a different course. It was a mistake, and I am sorry,” the Architect said.

“Ah, but that isn’t all you’ve done, is it? The Warden should know. The Warden deserves to know why their entire world was threatened not so long ago,” the Mother said, finally quieter.

Nyx liked it better when she was shouting. “What is she—?”

“He is the source of the archdemon, and of the Blight itself! He went searching, like we all do, and he woke the dragon from its slumber! It was he who brought our kind to the surface,” the Mother screamed.

Nyx faced the image, eyes widened in genuine shock, then turned back to Cronus. “You… He—!” She returned her attentions to the Architect, balling her fists. She might not be able to punch a magical projection, but she almost wanted to try anyway. “How could you? What reason did you have to do this if you claim you don’t want any more Blights? It’s monstrous! Without reason! You…”

Nyx stopped, looking down. A tear fell down her cheek. “You’re responsible for all those lives. Tamlen. Duncan. Riordan. _Alistair!_ I never would have had to do what I did had you not…had you not…”

“There it is, then. Unfortunate,” the Architect said. He maintained an unnatural calm. “I did find the Old God, Urthemiel, but I did not wish another Blight. I attempted my Joining ritual. My hope was that this would free all darkspawn, unravel the curse from its source. Alas, I was unlucky.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Cronus said.

“You didn’t stop to think about the repercussions?” Nyx asked.

“Is it not the way of the Grey Wardens to do what must be done, in the name of combatting the Blight?” the Architect challenged.

“We do what we understand!” Nyx said.

“Not always,” Cronus reminded her. She looked back, and knew he was right. Her life. Alistair’s life. Between Morrigan and the Changeling, it was strange magic they didn’t understand saving them at every turn. Had she been in the Architect’s position, Nyx couldn’t say she would have done differently. Not, at least, without lying through her teeth.

“The Blight is a menace,” the Architect continued, “both for your people and for mine. To end it requires sacrifice and risk.”

“And how lonely the Father was. How terrible to be the outcast, the outsider!” the Mother said.

“I’m afraid I must agree with my friend here,” Nyx said, drawing Stargazer. “I’m sick of talking.”

“Regardless of how you feel about what I have done, the Mother is mad. She cannot be allowed to—”

“Begone, shadow!” the Mother shouted. The Architect was interrupted, his form fading away. “You cannot harm the Mother any more than you already have.”

“No, but we sure as shit can,” Oghren said, hefting his axe. “Shall we, Commander?”

Nyx nodded. “This ends now.”

“The hero thinks they can kill the Mother? Oh, but they shall see what a foolish thing that is to think. The Children are here, and the Children protect me.”

Sure enough, the new darkspawn rose from their pods and crawled out from behind their Mother to defend her. This would not be like the last time Nyx fought a broodmother up close. That one had called on allies, but they were ordinary hurlocks, genlocks, with only a few shrieks and alphas. This new form of darkspawn was so powerful that even with all her allies at her side, she would struggle.

“Cronus!” she called. “If you see any way to do this easily…”

“The crystals you saw in those towers? Those are from ancient Tevinter. I can see if I can call on their magic, but you’ll need to cover me,” Cronus said.

It wasn’t exactly what Nyx had been thinking of, but it would do the trick. “Percy! Stay with Cronus, just in case any of those darkspawn get too close. Remember not to bite. I don’t want you getting sick.”

Perseus barked in approval of the plan and ran back with Cronus. They would keep themselves out of the chaos. The rest of them would simply have to ensure that the darkspawn didn’t get the chance to get close to either of them.

Oghren was first to rush towards the Mother, which proved a little too bullheaded as one of her tentacles smacked him away and onto his back. One of the Children almost got the better of him, hovering over his body while he was down, but Nyx was there in a moment.

She used her shoulder and upper arm to ram the thing down, then swung Stargazer over in an arc until it cracked through the exoskeleton and through the softer flesh. Nyx helped Oghren up.

“Be more careful. There aren’t as many of us this time around,” Nyx said. She was almost regretting sending Sigrun back to Vigil’s Keep. If it hadn’t been the best shot at warning the rest of her Wardens and soldiers, Nyx wouldn’t have done it.

Oghren did seem to take the advice to heart, at least, as he approached with more caution. He was blocked by a couple of grubs, but cleared them quickly only to begin hacking at a tentacle like it was a tree trunk. The Mother cried out, her mouth opening more like one of the Children. It was sickening and reminded them just how inhuman she was.

“Spell incoming!” Cronus called from the back. “Go on the offensive… _now!_ ”

A burst of light filled the ground. The Children seemed almost like they’d been grabbed by something beneath the earth and held fast. It wouldn’t last long, but it was the opening they needed.

Nathaniel, Anders, and Oghren cleared out the remaining Children while they were frozen. The Mother remained mobile, but Nyx was certain she’d be capable of handling it by herself.

Except those damn tentacles were just in the way. Stargazer was sharp and cut clean, but the thickness of the muscle in the Mother’s many appendages made it difficult even with the right instrument. It still made the monster scream to cut into her, so if Nyx’s aim was to make this death slow and painful, it was working.

Except she really just wanted to end this quickly. Not for the Mother’s sake, but so she could get the hell out of this place and contemplate the deal she’d made. Obviously, the darkspawn did not agree with this goal.

“Does the Warden even understand what it does? The Father, he changes us without even asking if we wish it! All the Mother wants is to hear the song again… Such sweet music…”

Nyx would not try to reason with the Mother. Were she a person, Nyx might try to help her see reason. Even those lost could sometimes be made to understand, given patience. But this was a darkspawn. The Mother was owed no sympathies, no chance at being saved. She was meant to die, and that was all Nyx would give her. Death, swift as Nyx could offer.

“Commander!” Nathaniel called.

Nyx turned, just in time to notice that one of the last of the Children had regained movement and was charging her. She pulled her blade from a wounded tentacle, and swung up, cutting in a diagonal across the creature’s body.

But with her attention divided, Nyx was knocked to the side. She fell to her knees, certain her arm would be sore. Worse yet, her grip loosened and Stargazer fell a little ways away from her.

The darkspawn that had attacked was severely wounded, but not yet dead. It pursued her with all the viciousness it could muster, hissing and spitting. Nyx lifted a foot and kicked it back, scrambling for her blade. It was knocked away for a moment, but regained its course in a moment.

An arrow struck its head. Nyx didn’t have to look to know that it was Nathaniel who had her back. She reached her sword and pulled it and herself back up. She was ready to fight again.

“Nyx! Stand back from the Mother!” Cronus called. More magic incoming. What would it be this time?

She didn’t have to wait long for the answer. A burst of flames rose from beneath the Mother, burning her whole body. It wasn’t enough to kill her on its own, as it went out fairly quickly, but it weakened her significantly.

The Mother was panting when she extended her arm outward. “The Mother has some magic of her own…” she said. Wisps of light emerged from her fingers, slow at first, then shot like one of Nathaniel’s arrows into each of them. Cronus managed to raise a shield just in time, but the rest—even Perseus—were stunned.

Another wave of the Children rose up. Unable to even defend themselves, the group waited in fear. Nathaniel was the first to be tackled to the ground, sharp appendages tearing at his body while the darkspawn spat poison on his face. Thankfully his mouth was closed, and so long as he was careful, he wouldn’t ingest it like Anders must have before.

Nyx was the next to be attacked, though she was harder to knock over with her stance, so the Children just stabbed into the chinks of her armor. It hurt like the Void, and she couldn’t even cry out.

As soon as she could move, she pushed the creatures away then swung wildly until those attacking her were dead. Anders was helping Nathaniel with his attacker, as Oghren had his own group of darkspawn to contend with.

“More Tevinter magic!” Cronus shouted. This spell washed over each and every one of them with a warming sensation. Every pain eased, and cuts started to close in an instant. It was the strongest healing spell any of them had ever felt, and it filled them with the energy they needed to press on.

They employed the same strategy as last time, with Nyx taking on the Mother solo and the rest providing cover. Perseus had to headbutt a few grubs away from Cronus, and Nathaniel split his attention between the sides to fire at any darkspawn that got a little too close, but the plan seemed to work alright.

This time, Nyx cut clean through some of the tentacles, and managed to get a few hits in on the Mother’s large torso as well. The bits there were more fleshy, more like a human woman would have been. Which this broodmother appeared to have come from.

Nyx couldn’t think on that long. No pity for this creature. No sympathy for her in her madness and hideous transformation. The Mother was undeserving of kindness, now. Nyx could not afford to give it and weaken her blows.

“Shit! Shit shit _shit!_ ” Cronus shouted. “Clear out, now! This one is _big._ ”

“The mage tries to frighten me?” the Mother said. “I am not intimidated!”

“You probably should be,” Nyx said, dodging another attack. She pulled back, cutting her way to clear from the Children. The Mother could not pursue her, so she sent her precious darkspawn darlings after them.

It was hard to get far enough away, with the creatures still hot on their tails. Too hot. Wait, no, that was the raining fire.

Cronus’ last spell called in an actual storm of fire that rained down on the darkspawn. The Mother screamed, louder than she ever had. Nyx had to cover her ears, but only did so once she was far enough from the fire not to be burned. But she could hear Perseus barking, and moved her hands to hold him instead.

Anders cast a shield around all of them, that muted the chorus of screeching that came from the darkspawn as they were burned alive. Nyx could not tear her eyes away, no matter how much they stung from the furious brightness outside of the protective bubble. No matter how horrible it was to watch the Mother’s seared flesh falling from her. No matter what kind of emotion it was, indefinable, that dredged up in her stomach as some of the darkspawn crawled to the thing that birthed them as if begging for help.

In the end, despite herself, Nyx pitied them. Pitied monsters. It wasn’t like they could help what they were, after all.

After a couple of long minutes, Anders lowered his barrier. He nearly fell from exhaustion, but Nathaniel helped to hold him up. Nyx moved slowly, Perseus whimpering behind her as she approached the charred corpses.

“That...that was…” she began.

“Brutal,” Nathaniel said. “They deserved no less. Though I’m not sure what the Architect deserves, now that we know the truth.”

“Let’s get back to the Keep,” Nyx said, turning her back on the scene. Something churned in her that she just didn’t like, and she couldn’t look at the remains any longer for fear of what might burst from her. She should not have been so upset by a victory.

Cronus followed close behind her, while the rest gave her a bit of space, sensing the tension. He was the one to grab her shoulder and slow her movement.

“They weren’t people, Nyx,” Cronus said. “They didn’t think like we do. So long as the broodmother told them to go to the surface, they would do it. The killing is in their nature. Don’t personalize this. They weren’t actually children.”

She didn’t question how he knew what she didn’t. Nyx simply nodded, saying, “I’ll feel better once I’m home again.” She didn’t specify, but she was certain she meant Denerim. Amaranthine had little left to offer her, and she had very little left to offer it. For now, she only hoped that the Keep and those within it had been able to stand their ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special apologies to Erik, who skips my fight scenes. :P


	17. Victorious

“Which ones?” Nyx asked.

A number of people had volunteered their services to the Grey Wardens. With two major successes in their recent history, people came seeking glory and purpose and redemption. Those of various talents and backgrounds all offered themselves up to the Order. According to Cadmus, it was traditional to simply take whoever was willing.

It wasn’t glamorous, even though these young hopefuls believed it would be. So many of them died quickly against darkspawn or even in attempting the Joining that no one was turned down a chance to try. They sought capable men, yes, but sometimes they had to take what they could get. Especially during a Blight.

But this was peacetime, with no immediate darkspawn threats on the horizon, and Nyx saw a chance to make the Warden history a little less colored by the many deaths in service to the Order. So Cronus stood by her at every open recruitment they held in Vigil’s Keep, and advised on which ones would survive the Joining.

It was worth the risk, she’d decided. If altering something that was fate just ended in their death elsewhere, they could at least spend a little longer drawing breath. Maybe Nyx could not keep everyone alive forever—and she’d be a fool to try—but she could spare some.

Cronus indicated the ones that stood a chance at surviving. They might die in the field, but at least they would be able to serve. It was such a waste to see people die by poisoning themselves without really knowing that it was so deadly.

Those that were turned away were offered chances within the Keep’s soldiers and the Amaranthine guard. Both needed recruits worse than the Grey Wardens did, for once, and were fine opportunities for a young warrior. Some were gracious in accepting a position elsewhere. Others left in a huff, like they’d been denied that which was their right.

“Some will return when you are no longer here,” Cronus noted. “You can’t save everyone.”

“But who would I be if I didn’t try?” Nyx said.

“Not yourself, that’s for sure,” Cronus said. “Though maybe being someone else might be good for a change.”

Nyx shook her head. “You don’t mean that. You mean someone else should take over.”

“I mean I’m not sticking around, and neither are you. This is temporary, and I understand the attempt, but it’s probably futile.”

Nyx took a deep breath. “Maybe,” she said. Then she left him.

She couldn’t say who was right about this action to preserve lives, but she was determined to continue it so long as she remained. Nyx believed she would be the one to leave first, not Cronus. Though he would ultimately go chasing after his love.

As the days continued to pass, Cronus was asked to keep an eye out for those recruits that were turned away. Those in the guard or with the soldiers in the Keep were also observed by other parties, with promises to come to Nyx if there was any significant news in regards to how they were progressing. She feigned it as an interest in seeing them develop their skills, saying she may, perhaps, offer them another chance at becoming a Warden. No one knew Nyx was really waiting to see if any of them died horribly.

A few did end up dying. They were too green for their position and were sent too early, or they just got ambushed and unlucky. None were quite so brutal as the news of Mhairi’s had been. To say that it was fated was difficult to do, as Nyx couldn’t determine what was “meant to be.” For that, she relied on Cronus.

“You said something to me about Artemis, before,” Nyx said, speaking in her chambers with him.

Cronus twitched at the name, tightening every muscle in his body. It was an odd reaction to see from him, considering he hadn’t been terribly close to the girl. Or even to Leliana. Why had he taken this to heart the way he had?

“You mentioned that the way your visions went, she almost always… She was lost, most times. Like it was already decided by some unknown force that something would happen to her. Can you tell if it’s like that for any of the recruits?” Nyx asked. “Or, well, the _almost_ -recruits.”

He managed to sigh and loosen his shoulders before responding. “No. It’s… Nothing is so clear for these ones. There’s no grand connecting event to put them in danger around the same spot other than the Joining, and that’s already been avoided. Ar— She was easy to see because it was the Blight. Always something in the Blight that killed her. Vaughn or one of those bastards. Darkspawn. Something. There are simply too many ‘almost-recruits’ to look into every one of them, with too much time left in each of their lives to tell.”

“So there’s no way of knowing,” Nyx said.

“Every Mhairi except for yours died drinking from that chalice,” Cronus said. “Most of these fools throwing themselves at whatever fire they can find are the same way. You changed things, which makes it all the more unpredictable. I may have gotten better at following certain paths, but there are too many to look into now. Too many possibilities. Too many people. I can’t do it.”

Nyx paused. “That’s not something I’ve ever heard you say before.”

Cronus laughed, but it was a little bitter the way he did it. “Yeah, don’t expect it to happen again.”

Nyx waited a long moment, considering how Cronus might react if she asked what she really wanted to. He couldn’t even say her name. Even Leliana had managed to bring it up, in the few meetings the two women had shared in person. She didn’t do it without spilling a few tears, but she still managed.

“Is it still affecting you?” Nyx said. “Artemis’ death?”

Cronus ground his teeth. “I’d prefer not to discuss that.” Then he cocked his head, turning to her with one of his classic smiles. The ones that felt vaguely threatening, but one could never quite figure out why.

“Don’t you worry, Queen Theirin. It’s all being taken care of,” Cronus said, bowing sarcastically. “I’ll see myself out.”

And he did. Nyx didn’t bother with pursuing him, or asking what he meant. It would lead to another puzzle which would lead to yet another, and her head didn’t have the space his seemed to, most days. Not even when she was wide awake, which she was not. It was late, she was tired, and she put the matter aside for a time.

Or at least, she meant to. In her mind she considered what it could mean. Did he have some plan for Artemis? Surely he was not investigating the same time magic that the Changeling had wielded.

What could that possibly do to the world left behind? Nyx sometimes wondered at the state of things in her original time. Were they still safe? Had it been eaten up by magic beyond her comprehension? If that was the case, Nyx certainly couldn’t stand to see it used again.

Then there was the idea that he might simply resurrect her. Which would be disastrous beyond imagining. Though not too far beyond, as she had seen undead possessed by demons. Made to be just like those living, but never truly them. Leliana would hate Cronus more for that than any mistake made during a war.

Nyx didn’t understand that man, but she sometimes forgot a very important fact. Cronus was dangerous.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

“Alright, open it up!” Cadmus commanded.

The dwarves worked the various mechanisms on the great big door far beneath the Keep, opening a passageway directly into the Deep Roads. No darkspawn would get through with it closed, which was the best way for it to be so they might sleep at night. But for a bit of training, and to gather their own darkspawn blood the way a true recruit was meant to do, they had to face real darkspawn.

They wouldn’t be fighting stuffed sparring dummies forever.

There was a bigger group of darkspawn than usual waiting by the door, this time. Which was why some of the more experienced Wardens, like Velanna and Nathaniel, tended to be on standby whenever they did this. Cadmus had been put in charge of most training and some recruitment efforts, as Nyx had many other things to deal with. She had also asked him to help her with them from time to time, and consider those moments to be learning opportunities.

He didn’t to say anything, but he was almost entirely certain of what she was doing. It was no secret that the queen had a castle to return to, and the Keep would be left without a Commander in place. Unless, that was, Nyx instated one. She didn’t seem the sort to forget that detail as she made her plans to go to Denerim.

Regardless of the state of succession in the Keep, Cadmus had things he needed to focus on a little better. Like keeping some of the greener fighters from getting bits lobbed off with this alpha that had jumped into the mix. It was the biggest threat they would face for the day, but it was a bad enough threat that they would need his backup.

“Sunburst, wind around them,” he commanded his wolf. She took off running, a good distraction for Cadmus to slip in unnoticed and lend his aid.

One of the recruits (Rolff? Ralof?) was in close quarters combat with the alpha. He was holding his own, but barely. His shield was up and the darkspawn clearly had him on the defensive. Another hurlock was ready behind him, but the recruit didn’t notice.

Cadmus took out the hurlock and threw his back up against the recruit’s, holding him steady. “Don’t just let it push you,” Cadmus said. “Push _back._ ”

Rolff (or Ralof) made a soft whimpering noise that both communicated his fear, and his understanding. He put his whole weight, of which there was quite a lot, into shoving his shield against the alpha. While it was no small genlock who could have fallen onto its back at such a maneuver, the alpha did stumble enough to offer the recruit an opening.

Cadmus didn’t even need to tell him to strike, then. A sword straight to the throat was enough to take that beast out of commission.

“Well done,” Cadmus praised. “But there’s more still to fight. Help your allies. See that you keep as many of them alive as possible, as well as yourself.”

“Yes, sir!” the recruit shouted. He ran off to aid the others.

Nathaniel chuckled. “These ones hardly seem to need us,” he said. “Once they find their courage, they are quite strong. The Commander chose them well.”

“I wasn’t sure why she would have turned anyone away, but not a one of them has failed the Joining, yet. I wonder if that has anything to do with… You know,” Cadmus said.

Nathaniel shrugged. “I’ve made peace with it. But it’s still a large secret to keep. How she deals with a burden I can only just bear every day, I’ll never know.”

“We all have our secrets and pasts,” Cadmus said. “In the Wardens, we forget them. We become equal. That’s just the way it is.”

Nathaniel hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t think she got to follow that rule. And I don’t think Nyx ever will, now, with all that she’s done.”

“Which is why she isn’t staying.”

“And who will take her place?”

Cadmus shrugged. Much as he had theorized about the decisions Nyx must have made for Vigil’s Keep and its future, he still wasn’t certain. He didn’t want to share his thoughts with Nathaniel, who might think it was an issue of his pride getting ahead of him. Really, it was just reasonable to think he would be the one. Though Nathaniel would hardly be a poor choice, himself.

He had come a long way from being the son of Rendon Howe. A long way from a thief and would-be assassin. Cadmus could relate, to some degree. His life before the Order was not entirely clean, either.

“We’ve done it!” one of the recruits cheered. The darkspawn were all taken care of. Now all they had to do was to bring in their viles of darkspawn blood. Then Cadmus would see if Nyx had selected only people who would not die, yet again. Though her pacifism could waver, she never did seem able to pass on a chance to see that others lived.

“You know some of them call you the Commander’s Second, now?” Nathaniel said, as they made their way back to the surface. “Perhaps it will be you in charge, soon. You do have seniority, even over us.”

“But I’m Orlesian,” Cadmus noted. “I’m not sure the Ferelden Grey Wardens would be so enthusiastic about being lead by an elf from Orlais, of all things.”

Nathaniel chuckled. “Could be worse. You could have been a mage, too.”

“I’m right here, you know,” Demeter said. “I think I would make a fine leader of the Order, personally.”

“I won’t disagree with that,” Cadmus said, “if only out of self-preservation.”

“Horrible. The both of you,” Demeter said, rolling her eyes.

“Either of you would be fine choices,” Nathaniel said. “You’ve proven capable. And like you said, our pasts are almost forgotten within the Wardens. No matter who or what you are, if you are a good leader, they will follow your command. You simply need to prove yourself worthy of their trust.”

Demeter and Cadmus shared a look. He couldn’t argue that she’d be a terrible choice, in all honesty. She could hold her own in battle and was used to being attentive to allies due to all the time she’d spent surviving with Anders. Cadmus was not in this without a bit of competition, to be certain.

“One of _his_ shortcomings can be masked with a change of accent,” Demeter argued. “The things they won’t like about me are not things that can be hidden or made to disappear. I am what I am, always.”

Ah. She had a point as well. Even if Nyx didn’t seem the sort to discriminate, Demeter might refuse the position for such a reason. Or at the very least, she would struggle. There were good Chantry boys in the Grey Wardens already, and there would surely be more to come. If they would not get with the program and fall in line, it could be trouble.

“Well I know one thing,” Cadmus said, to lighten the mood, “it won’t be Oghren.”

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

The Grey Wardens, a fearsome and formidable force against the darkspawn, were apparently easily undone by the cooing of a tiny dwarven infant.

“I still can’t believe you managed to convince me she was born from stone,” Velanna said.

“Cheer up, _lethallan,_ ” a newer elven recruit said, elbowing her playfully. “Your scary face will frighten the baby.”

Velanna narrowed her eyes, but did seriously consider the effects of her expression on the little one, and restrained herself. “Know that if there were not a child here, Di’lan, I would have flattened you.”

“Will you all pipe down? I don’t want her waking from her nap,” Oghren grumbled. He was all too glad to have finally gotten her to sleep. Felsi only brought her around every so often, which he’d come to enjoy, but he never got used to all the baby things. The baby things which Nyx seemed to almost delight in.

She was the one holding Oghren’s baby at the moment, rocking her gently. “She’s beautiful, Oggie,” Nyx said, probably for the hundredth time. Nefur, or Nef for short, had her father’s red hair, but only in a small curl at the tip of her forehead. But even this young, Oghren said Nef seemed as fierce as her mother. And Nyx was just smitten with the little thing.

“Of course she is, she’s mine, isn’t she?” Oghren said, grinning.

“Which means that her good looks are a blessing from the Maker himself,” Anders said. “Thank Felsi for pitching in and making sure she didn’t look more like you.”

Oghren grumbled something about what he’d do “if the baby weren’t here.” Anders just laughed. It was too easy to pick on the new father with Nef around.

Nyx shushed them all. She’d have to write to Alistair about this. Better yet, she’d tell him all about it in person. He was set to visit soon, to see how things were coming along. It was all very official, but he had made certain to arrive late enough that he’d simply have to stay the night. No one was fooled by this maneuver, of course, but no one would stop him either.

But this, holding this small warm bundle of life in her arms… Nyx could never forget this feeling. She never wanted to. In fact, she wanted a child all the more the longer she stared at Nef’s little sleepy face. The baby yawned and squirmed a little.

“She’s dreaming,” Nyx said, voice barely above a whisper. “I wonder what she sees behind those closed eyes.”

Oghren soon had to gather his daughter up and prepare for her return with Felsi. They remained close enough that a visit was not much trouble, but still far enough that certain precautions were made for the travel to be safe. Nyx once asked why Felsi didn’t simply live and work there, in the Keep, even offering substantial pay for it.

Felsi had to refuse. Things were civil with Oghren, but she claimed that if she were around him any longer she’d cause him serious injury. The baby didn’t need to see that with things already as complicated as they were.

Velanna and her new elven friends left with no more child to amuse them. It was nice to see that she’d found her place. Even some humans had proven worthy of Velanna’s time, apparently. It wasn’t just Nathaniel and Cadmus that managed to break down her walls. She was still cold with Nyx, but no less was expected. Nyx decided she would be alright if she was never forgiven, so long as Velanna didn’t actively hate her.

Nyx didn’t think that she did.

But since Nyx had thought of Nathaniel, she was reminded to get back to that paperwork. No position of leadership was without some bureaucracy. Were it up to just Nyx, she’d say it was perfectly acceptable for him to take a week or so to help Delilah once she’d given birth. However, the Wardens had a way of doing things, and the Order was bothered enough with some of the ways she’d ignored their rules, already. Nathaniel understood, thankfully, and he had a month or two before Deliah went through labor anyhow.

Nyx was more concerned with the matter of Justice. Cronus claimed to be putting in as much time as possible looking into separating the spirit from the body he inhabited, but no results had come up yet. Was it truly so difficult to do? Without much knowledge of magic, Nyx was floundering and hoping that the help she’d employed would come through. Cronus did always know more than she did, in these matters. But if he couldn’t just find the solution in the future, then could it have been that no solution existed at all?

Had she known this would be so much easier said than done, Nyx would have held off on making certain promises to Kristoff’s widow. Cronus suggested just burning any old body and sending those ashes to her, but Nyx wouldn’t hear it. Kristoff deserved a funeral, if he could be given one. The “if” worried Nyx more than she cared to admit.

She put her mind to other things. The work that needed doing, the things she’d say to Alistair once he was able to visit, the rest of her Warden friends… Anders and Demeter had been perfectly safe from the templars, even with their phylacteries still out there. Cronus promised time and again that he’d handle it once he left, but never mentioned when that would be.

The day he would go to find Morrigan creeped ever closer, and Nyx did not expect him to even wait so long as she’d had to in order to go find his love. Not when she had his child with him. Cronus had mentioned the name before; Kieran. Nyx wondered why Morrigan chose it. Better to think of baby names than of the Old God soul within the infant.

Hopefully that had nothing to do with the potion Morrigan sent. Nyx would not want her baby, Alistair’s heir, to have any strange prophesied destiny due to the magic that created them. Whoever her child would be, Nyx would do anything in her power to keep them from the true dangers of the world. So long as she was able.

“Word from the king,” Senechal Varel said, holding out a letter. “He’s on the road. Sent a bird ahead to inform you of his departure from Denerim. Should we prepare something special for his arrival?”

Nyx giggled. “A platter of good cheeses?” she suggested. “You needn’t do much. He’ll mostly want to…well…”

“To see his wife,” Varel said. “Yes, of course, Commander. But I won’t let it be said that Vigil’s Keep is not wholly hospitable.”

Nyx smiled and gave him a few more things to do, but made sure to hold back. Alistair still got uncomfortable when people made a fuss over him. He’d get used to it one day, but Nyx saw no reason to push it.

She decided she wouldn’t tell him, yet. Not about her decision on having a child. That should wait until they were both settled back home, in their own bed, with only their own futures to consider in that moment of privacy.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

The Keep was bigger than Demeter thought. Sometimes on the inside, things got so focused on routine and training that she forgot about the rest of the world. Ever since the Mother was defeated, she rarely got out. Most time was spent training recruits or training for herself. Eventually they’d start out with some excursions into the Deep Roads, under advisement from the Architect.

She wondered why he was needed when they had Cronus.

Cronus, who was currently walking with her. Actually, he was the one who insisted on taking a stroll around the perimeter of the Keep. It wasn’t something he would usually go for, so Demeter was suspicious of his intentions. Not in the sense that he would try anything strange, but more because he was just generally unpredictable.

But she knew he could predict the future. Isabela had once pretended to be a Rivaini Seer in a _very_ entertaining little roleplay, but this was nothing like that. Cronus was the real deal, and Demi was sure his advice was more helpful than a darkspawn who apparently was responsible for the recent Blight.

Demeter wondered why Nyx let the Architect live. She wondered what use he would have that Cronus could not also fulfill. And she wondered what she was doing outside of the Keep, watching the stone wall on her left because Cronus was silent as they paced around it.

“Demeter,” he said, making her jump at the broken silence, “I wanted to talk to you about your future.”

“So you’re finally giving in and just telling me, huh?” Demi said, smirking.

“Nope,” Cronus said.

“That’s fine. You were right. I should see it in my own time,” she decided with a nod. It was a little bit of a lie, but she didn’t want him having the upper hand. He always did, and it was her damn turn for once.

But Cronus just laughed. He probably knew it was a small fib on her part. Demeter just didn’t want to be told what would happen when she could see it with her own eyes.

“You should,” Cronus agreed, despite his laughter. “You’ve got so much ahead of you. I just thought I should help make sure you’re ready for it. When I change things directly, there’s a chance that the consequences of that action aren’t worth it. Sometimes fate has already decided something should happen, or even _must_ happen. But I see reason to risk it, this time.

“You see I’ve been working on something. Practicing it. I wanted to know if I could do it, then saw that I could, and figured out how gradually. Now I’d like to try it, and you were the best candidate. It’s best if it’s a mage, best if it’s someone with a promising future, and restraint never hurts.”

Demeter had her brow furrowed so most of her face was wrinkled with confusion. “What are you talking about, Cronus?”

“This won’t break you. It would have broken Anders, I’m certain, and he already has things he’s meant to do. I wouldn’t rob him of that when I don’t know what consequences that could have. Besides, I like the future I see for him. I only hope he lives through it.”

Demeter was used to him being cryptic, but this was something else. He _never_ talked about Anders. Never. Not even on the few occasions she’d lectured him on hurting her friend. Cronus certainly never divulged information about some dark future that had the potential to kill Anders.

“What do you know?” Demeter demanded.

“Don’t be in such a hurry,” Cronus said. “You will see it all for yourself soon enough.”

They were getting closer to the front of Vigil’s Keep. They’d nearly walked the whole way around. Demeter could bolt ahead, if she wanted, casting a spell of quickness on herself to run just a little faster. She no longer felt safe around Cronus. She very much considered the idea of running. Sometime in the future, she would regret that she hadn’t.

Cronus grabbed a hold of her wrist and pressed her to the wall. Demeter held her breath, certain she knew where this was going. She would have summoned up fire and burned him away, made him leave her be, but his other hand flew to her forehead. It was heavy, heavier than it should have been, as if it was his full body weight. Not even that. More.

Images flashed in her head, too fast to recognize anything. Demeter could just make out blurs of color before it changed to the next one. Her skull _burned_ and her eyes bled. She could feel that warm, thick liquid drip its way down her cheeks. She wanted to scream but her throat was suddenly dry and hoarse. Black lightning crackled around her, emanating from Cronus’ palm.

He released her and the pain still didn’t stop. She was finally able to cry out, back sliding down against the wall as she tucked her knees in. The blood mixed with regular tears as she begged for mercy from him. But she realized she was alone. Or would be. Or always had been, somehow. Her nose bled, too, and she could feel the warm liquid caress her skin as it trickled down her face.

The only mercy Demeter was granted was when she blacked out.


	18. Onwards to Our Destiny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting a day early! I've got a long busy day tomorrow so I wanted to be sure this goes up.

There was no more fire. Demeter’s head felt much cooler, with only a small amount of weight resting on it. It still ached, and she was still terribly confused by all the things she kept seeing. It was better enough, at least, that she could open her eyes.

Birds chirped outside, but fluttered away when Anders leapt from his seat in surprise. “You’re awake!” he shouted.

Demeter hissed at the noise. This was not some hangover, but the headache was definitely reminiscent of one.

Anders sat right back down, forcing himself to into a calmer state. He took her hand in both of his and squeezed, though. Just to show her he was there.

“You’ve been out for three days, Demi,” he half-whispered. “No one knew if you were going to wake up. I kept trying to look for a problem with my magic to heal something but barely found anything. There was some damage to your eyes and—Maker—to your _brain._ But I healed you as best I could. And I never left your side.”

“Something was wrong with my brain?” Demeter asked. The daylight was a lot to bear. It made her mind drag up visions of a beam of reddish light, piercing the sky as a building exploded into pieces below.

“I couldn’t tell what, exactly. I think I managed to fix most of it, make it so nothing more would go wrong. But the whole thing was bizarre. When Cadmus found you outside the Keep, lying on the ground, he assumed you were dead. Demi, I thought I lost you,” Anders said.

She was rubbing her temples, trying to listen to Anders while also making sense of what she kept seeing. A couple dancing in Orlais, a grand ball going on inside but they remain on a balcony where they can talk in private. A green flash pulls her away into a scene full of chaos and death, but then she’s pulled away again, to an entirely different direction.

“Then I checked your pulse and knew you were alive, but with the damage inside your head I thought you might not wake up,” Anders said. “I don’t know what I would have done if that happened.”

Demeter closed her eyes again. There were _paths._ These visions weren’t just showing her things at random. There was a reason she was seeing what she was. She was sure of it. If Demeter could just figure out how to stay on course to see one coherent story…

“Nyx brought you food and blankets and anything you might need. She was worried sick, too. Even Nathaniel came to visit and talk with you, sometimes. Mostly with me, I admit, but it was sweet anyway.”

_The tower was dark and chilly, and she was sure the pack gave her away. But still Cullen only blushed and let her go on her way._

_Anders was being too loud out there in the forests. The templars would find them. They needed quiet and stealth._

_Denerim was a wild city, unlike she’d ever experienced. She hid her ears so no one tried to send her to the Alienage or claim she should be in whatever quarantine was going on. Isabela hated that Demeter had to hide them, because her ears were “just so cute and biteable.”_

“Demi? Are you alright? Are you in any pain?”

_Faster. They faced darkspawn for the first time in their lives. Then the second. Then it became old hat. The Architect. The Mother. Then, now._

“Demeter, seriously. Please talk to me,” Anders pleaded.

She opened her eyes. “Sorry I’m...just trying to concentrate on something. Give me a minute to think?”

Anders stared, and she recognized now how low the bags under his eyes drooped. He really hadn’t left her at all, had he?

_But she would leave him. Demeter could see it. She had to. Leaving the Keep was the right path for her, even if it meant Anders was left behind, as well. If she stayed it would interfere with what he had to do, change things too much. There were paths so blurry and unseeable they just went dark, and now that scared her more than not knowing would have scared her before._

_Demeter had her own way to go, her own people to meet. She would do good in other ways, fight to make things right for everyone. Mages, elves… What she could do for the oppressed in her world went beyond what being a Warden could do. Went beyond what saving her one friend might change. Much as she hated to admit it._

_And then there was that flash of red hair she kept seeing. Demeter was drawn to it, already feeling the full weight of emotions she’d not yet had the chance to feel for herself. She could see darkened Chantry halls and hear secrets whispered. She knew this was a tactic of the Game, but she was Ferelden at heart, always._

That was where she was meant to go. Those were the people she needed to meet and be around. And she had to go soon.

Demeter brought her hand to Anders’ cheek and stroked it. She could not escape the sadness of the moment, nor the love she still had for her friend. She had sworn to herself she’d be there to look after him, the night they left that tower. And until now she’d done just that. Life simply had other plans for her. Better plans.

Maybe it wasn’t so much what she thought. Maybe instead of being splintered, like Cronus was, he’d just planted this idea in her head. But she liked the idea too much to deny herself a chance to chase it.

“Demi?” Anders said, a quiet inquiry.

“I’m okay, Anders. Cronus he...he did something,” Demeter said. She was furious for it, but thankful. It was hard to work out how she felt, existing in so many spaces at once. But with just a bit of focus, she solidified in the moment. “But you healed it. I’ll be alright.”

She had to lie. If he knew, he’d always wonder why she left when she knew exactly how to stop him. He’d wonder why she left, regardless, but at least this way he wouldn’t know she had the power to prevent certain things.

“That bastard,” Anders said, gripping the sheets in his fists. “If I ever see him again, I’ll beat him into a bloody pulp for hurting you.”

“I wouldn’t advise that,” Demeter said. He never would, of course. He would only see Cronus one more time in his life. She wouldn’t be there to see it, but she knew when and where it would happen. And that Anders would be too distracted by other chaotic things around him to really concern himself with Cronus.

“Bullshit. I thought you weren’t waking up. He is going to taste the fury of my fireballs,” Anders said.

Demeter wanted to laugh and also wanted to cry a little. She had to leave tonight. Otherwise it would be too tempting to stay. So this was the last she would see of her friend.

She threw her arms around him and squeezed. Demeter squeezed hard.

“Demi?”

“I’m alright!” she said, half into his robes. Demeter pulled back. “I just love you a lot, that’s all.”

Anders paused. “You know I’m not...into you like that, right?”

She hit him. Now she was laughing. “You jerk! Here I thought we were having a moment. Yes, I know. And you should know you’re not pretty enough for me.”

“I take offense to that,” Anders said. “I’m the prettiest mage around.”

“I’ve seen prettier in the mirror,” Demeter said. “Come on, I’m starving. Let’s get some food.”

She let the day be normal. She didn’t give away her plans, not in the slightest. Demeter played the part, and Anders made it so easy. So easy that at times she almost forgot, but her head would wrench to the future with the red-haired woman beside her, and she remembered. Demeter couldn’t stay. The Wardens served no further purpose for her. And Anders?

It was cruel not to say goodbye, but if she did, she would stay. Demeter didn’t just feel it in her heart, but she saw it too. He’d cry and plead with her and she’d give him just another day, just another week, just another month, until it was forgotten.

So she made little promises to herself during the day. Demeter would check in when she was able. She would keep an eye on him, make sure nothing bad happened. Make sure Hawke, whoever they would end up being, was kind to him. Patient. Understanding. Maybe even loving? She saw the chance for that, and hoped. Hoped because Anders should be happy and loved. Hoped because it would prevent Hawke from doing something that Demeter really feared they might.

Night fell and she waved goodbye and goodnight when Anders slipped into his room alone. She made for hers, and found her pack.

Demeter had to be quick and quiet, casting little charms around herself for stealth and swiftness. She didn’t have many clothes, but got out of her Grey Warden armor and into something pedestrian. No one could know she was a deserter _or_ a mage. Either one would be enough to startle. She threw her hair up into a tight bun, so much easier to manage than at its full length.

She stashed away all the gold she had, which frankly wasn’t much. Demeter hated to admit it, but she wouldn’t get far if she didn’t take some things from the Keep. Maybe one day she’d be able to repay Nyx for what she planned on taking. It was a good enough excuse to make her find her way to the treasury.

It was almost nothing, really, out of the gold Vigil’s Keep had come into with recent donations, but stealing was stealing. Except Demeter also had to go to the kitchens next.

Just enough to satisfy a few days on her own. That was all she would take from the rations pre-prepared for excursions into the Deep Roads that would soon start again. A bundle of some bread, cheese, dried meat, dried fruit, and a generous handful of nuts would sate her. Her waterskin she had already filled earlier at the well, while Anders was talking with Justice. He was always distracted when he fell into conversation with the spirit, so it had been her best chance.

She reached the main door but did not dare to look back. She could reminisce, think on all the days she’d spent here. On the close allies she sometimes quietly called friend, but only ever to herself. On the battles and fights they all survived together. On the rough training and the easier nights of food and drink.

But if she did she’d linger, and at that moment it would be the same to Demeter as staying that little bit longer. So she pushed her way outside and into the night. She saw Ser Pounce-a-Lot wandering the grounds as he liked to do at night. He rubbed against her leg and meowed, though it sounded a little sad. Like he knew what she was doing.

“Sorry, little boy,” she cooed, scratching his head.

There was no longer a loose stone to pull and get out of. The walls were fortified. So she was brazen, and simply climbed out. It wasn’t easy to do, but Demeter made her way up the wall, then scaled back down the other side. And once she was clear, she ran.

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

Cronus’ disappearance came as no great surprise, but when Anders burst into Nyx's room in the earlier hours of the day to tell her Demeter was nowhere to be found, she was genuinely shocked by the news. They looked all over the Keep together, but no one had seen her. She left no note, no indication of where she planned to go. Demeter was just gone.

If Cronus had something to do with it, Nyx couldn't say. It was possible, and not entirely unlikely. He'd been close to Demeter, for some reason. It was possible he'd meant for her to come with him, but something went wrong the night he left. Nyx had heard about the blood from her nose and eyes and remembered what Cronus had been like, the day the Changeling attacked. But that was impossible. Cronus didn't know how to splinter a person.

Either way, they were gone. She helped Anders as he essentially mourned the loss of his friend. For Demi to leave without even saying goodbye was bizarre, but particularly so considering the closeness she shared with Anders. Nyx felt like something big must have been happening.

There was so much she didn't know. With Cronus gone she had none of his guidance, either, even to use sparingly as she'd intended to. She could lead without it, she supposed, but to what end? The recruits were being trained well by Cadmus and the others. The Architect sent a few leads on darkspawn movement and activity that was too close to the surface for comfort. He had not yet asked for more Warden blood. Vigil's Keep was in good hands, as we're the Grey Wardens.

The kingdom needed Nyx more than they did. Ines had contacted her about some results and findings from the prickleweed plant, and it seemed promising. Revitalizing Ferelden would be so much easier with this research.

And there were other projects to get to, as well. Creating safer, warmer homes in the Alienages, for a start. More outreach to local Dalish clans, if not to offer land than to at least offer peaceful passage through the country. Revisions of the way that mages in the tower we're treated. Anders had offered good advice, in that area, despite his many comments about simply tearing the thing to the ground.

The Wardens had made so much progress, and frankly, they could continue to do so without her. Nyx was no longer needed as Commander. All she had to do now was to pick the day when she would officially step down and hand over the title to her successor.

Then she could go home, to Denerim, and be with her love.

“We never expected you to stay forever,” Varel said, though he could not hide the break in his voice. “Your presence will simply be missed, in these halls.”

“I will be certain to check in personally, when I am able. This is still an arling, after all. Which means that the Grey Wardens are an integral part of the kingdom,” Nyx said.

“I suppose you realize we will still need a Commander of the Grey,” Varel said. “Have you…?”

“I have already chosen, yes. I will inform him once I make the formal announcement.”

She waited only for later that same day. She felt no need to make a speech for all the Wardens, not yet, so Nyx simply gathered those that had been with her during the struggle against the Mother. Those still present, anyhow.

Oghren, Nathaniel, Velanna, Sigrun, Anders, Cadmus, and Justice sat before her. She stood, raising a mug of ale. They silenced at the universal sign of toast-making. They knew they'd been gathered here specifically, but not for what purpose.

“You've all proven yourselves to be dear friends, trusted allies, and needed support over these past months. It has been an honor to command Wardens of such caliber, and to fight alongside each of you. But we all knew from the start that I was not coming here to stay, and the Grey Wardens of Ferelden have since outgrown their need of me. It is time for me to return to Denerim, as Queen,” Nyx said.

Everyone was silent. Even Oghren.

“In order to leave, I must have someone here to take over my position as Warden Commander. While many of you have shown you would have the skills needed for this job, one has stood out among the rest. Besides which, he holds seniority over every Warden here, including myself. He has experience and talent, and I believe that Cadmus Andras will be a fine Warden Commander.”

Cadmus stood hastily. “Nyx, I will do everything I can to see that the Wardens perform their duties in this time of peace.”

She nodded, smiling. “There is a lot to discuss between you and I, but for now I want this to be a celebration. My time with all of you may be ending, but the Grey Wardens will always be a part of me. Not only because of the taint in my blood, but…” Nyx sniffled, “...but because of the bonds I've made with people like you.”

“I'm glad Felsi isn't here to see this, or she'd never let me hear the end of it,” Oghren said, snorting loudly as he failed to fight back his tears.

Nathaniel offered the dwarf a handkerchief, which Oghren would ultimately be allowed to keep after soaking it in snot. Nyx had promised herself she wouldn't cry, but there she was blubbering and running to hug her friend.

“I'll stop by when I'm able. Official business or no, I'll make sure I've a reason to come to Amaranthine and say hello,” Nyx swore.

Cadmus, following the lead Nyx had given earlier, rose his mug of ale up above his head. “To Warden Commander Nyx! Her contributions to the Order will never be forgotten.”

⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧

“You still think the fact that I'm Orlesian won't be a problem?” Cadmus asked. He was helping to move the last of Nyx's things to the carriage that was arranged to bring her home. No low class travel, this time. Even Cadmus could tell by the stars in her eyes that this luxury was still surprising to her.

“They've all seen your skill,” Nyx said, referring to the many Grey Warden recruits. “They know what you can do and they know that you're a natural leader. They respect you for who you are, and should know you owe no greater loyalties to a country than to your Warden allies.”

“I'm sure Sunburst helps,” Cadmus joked, gesturing to his wolf, who was still moping. “She might not be a Mabari, but she's still a dog of some sort.”

Nyx laughed. “I suppose they would have to award you some points, there.”

Perseus was just about as mopey as Sunburst, understanding fully that he was to leave with Nyx. It was hard to convince him to get into the carriage without Sunburst coming with him.

“I think our dogs are having more trouble saying goodbye than we are,” Nyx said through a laugh.

“She's not normally so bad. But she's just been in such a mood lately. Like she knew this was coming,” Cadmus said. He bent down to rub Sunburst’s head. “You're a funny girl, aren't you?”

Nyx giggled some more and finally convinced Perseus to hop into the carriage. He made a scene of it, certainly, whining and howling. He still did it, though, and that was what Nyx cared about.

“Make sure you take care of everyone,” Nyx said. “I don't want to hear bad news coming out of Amaranthine, you hear me?”

Cadmus gave the traditional Warden salute. “I'll keep everything and everyone safe as I am able. And recruitment efforts will continue.”

He saw her face sadden just a hint, but she picked herself back up rather quickly.

“Yes of course. I'm sure you will need more Wardens to truly rebuild the Ferelden Order.”

Cadmus offered a hand to steady her as she got onto the carriage, which was a bit of a high step to make. “Safe travels, your highness.”

Nyx smiled. “Be well, Commander.”


	19. Left Behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little shorter! Last thing is a series of various epilogues for a number of characters. Including a few who didn’t really get a chance to feature in this story!

Things changed after Nyx left. For better. For worse. They changed.

Anders changed. He felt it in himself, hated the feeling, and crushed it back harder and harder with every joke he made and every flirtation he threw at someone. Mostly at Nathaniel. Almost solely at him.

The attraction was nice, and being with someone felt so good. But when they left the bed and went back to life there was something missing from it. This was fun, but it wasn't serious. It wasn't what Anders really wanted, deep down.

Perhaps that was a failing of his projected self. He didn't act as if he wanted love, so Nathaniel didn't think to give it. Or maybe they just realized, apart from each other, that beyond what sex could give them, the relationship was better off platonic. Anders just disliked the fact that it seemed to take Nate less time to figure that out.

At least he said goodbye when he went off to help care for Delilah and her newborn. Demeter, his oldest friend besides Karl, hadn't even given him that. What was so important that she had to run off and desert the Grey Wardens? That she had to desert her friend? Surely she could have told him, then at least he might have understood.

Or he might not have. Honestly Anders was certain he'd argue with her for trying to leave or insist on coming with. Which explained why Demeter didn't say goodbye. But it didn't make as much sense to the hole in his heart as it did in his head.

Then Nyx left so soon after that. Of course she'd had the decency to inform everyone, but that was part of her duty. It was a little impersonal, even though she did hug those who would let her before leaving.

Regardless, he missed her terribly. Nyx had felt like the glue to it all, but she was gone and things fell apart. Anders saw more strangers’ faces with each passing day, and felt less close to the familiar ones as well.

At least Cronus was someone he'd wanted gone! But the other departures were eating him up inside. Even Nathaniel, gone only for a little while, left a hollowness behind. His warmth had been a comfort, if one that lacked feeling.

Strange to think that the person who gave Anders the most security in all of that was Justice. They spent time together, at first, so Anders could research how to part the spirit from the corpse he inhabited. Then they just got to talking, as was natural to do.

Justice was understanding—actually, better than that—of the mages’ plight. He was sympathetic to the loss Anders had felt, and Justice even got him to open up a bit about his past. He knew what had happened the day the templars took him away, and about what lead to it. And he was sorry for what Anders had suffered.

But better, he was furious. Justice had not realized the level of injustices placed on the shoulders of mages. He had spent so long with the villagers in that cursed town that he had not seen much of the world around him other than that. Justice had seen a mage as an oppressor, but had not seen the way time had turned them into the oppressed.

The time of Tevinter’s height was long since passed. The Chantry was the real threat, now. So long as they used the name of Andraste to shame mages back into their Circles, they could not be considered trustworthy. So long as mages were killed or made Tranquil just for being alive and wishing for freedom, Anders would want to fight back.

Talking with Justice made it easier to deny these thoughts less. Before he cared, but only enough to complain or lecture once in a while. Now he actually thought about it. Enough to realize he should be doing something about it all.

But the Wardens were fairly peaceful as they were, then. Cadmus had things well in hand as Commander. He got in new recruits and trained everyone to the best of his abilities. He assigned excursions into the Deep Roads to study and push back darkspawn. He even had their dwarven allies looking into the construction of the door used to keep their own fortress safe from the Deep Roads entrance below. If they could make more of those in other areas, perhaps even a future Blight didn't need to be as serious a threat.

Anders had been optimistic about Cadmus and his abilities to lead right up until the point where he recruited former templars. They looked at Anders like he was vermin, even as they went on their way to take the Joining. He prayed to Andraste hard as he could that they would die from the taint. He was sorely disappointed when hours later, they emerged.

He was certain to give Cadmus an earful, and Justice even backed him despite having never been asked to. Cadmus simply stated that the Grey Wardens needed more men, and Nyx turning down any potential Wardens was abnormal. They took who they could get, always. The only restrictions on who could take the Joining were about politics.

Anders made a case about the politics of templars and their skewed beliefs of mages, but his voice was overruled. They'd already taken the Joining, and were promising fighters, besides. Cadmus figured the two remaining mage Wardens would be perfectly safe. They were brothers in arms, after all.

Pity the ex-templars couldn't see it that way.

They were vile towards Velanna, but underestimated the strength of elven unity. Cadmus shut that down rather quickly, and unofficially made Velanna his second. Anders doubted it was because she was the best choice for it. Cadmus and Velanna were friends, a thing which everyone knew.

Not that Anders wanted the position himself. No thanks. It would only draw more unneeded attention his way and that was something he could do just fine without. Though he found himself jealous of the protection Velanna seemed to have.

Anders didn’t have that. The only real friend he had left was Justice. Even Sigrun had grown tired of humoring him, and she was often out on missions anyway. In fact, everyone Anders really knew kept _leaving_ for some reason or another. The Architect had a lead. The darkspawn were close to the surface and attacked someone. The Deep Roads needed exploring in some area.

Cadmus explained it as needing the experienced Wardens going with the not-so experienced. Squad leaders who could keep a cool head when faced with darkspawn.

“So why are we still stuck here?” Anders said, referring to himself and Justice.

“You aren’t exactly someone I’d define as having a cool head,” Cadmus said. “And Justice...scares people. Besides, you need to work on getting him out of there. It makes sense to keep you around.”

“Then send us together. I’ll keep an eye on him, he’ll keep his head cool, it will work!”

Cadmus sighed. “I’ll see if I can find someone willing to go with the two of you. In the meantime, just keep at it with the separation attempts?”

Anders nodded. Though with the passing days he grew less and less fond of the idea of Justice leaving. He had come to enjoy Justice’s company, and not only because he didn’t have other options. (Not that Anders would ever admit to being lonely.)

It wasn’t until Oghren’s long term relocation to a rebuilding site nearer to his family that Anders really wondered what he was still doing there. He had no friends but a spirit, his best friend left him, and his other potentially awesome close friend had to go and be queen somewhere. She wrote, but claimed Denerim kept her too busy to get away. And she only wrote a general letter for all of them. No time for anything more personal.

Nathaniel didn’t even bother with writing. He’d been gone for longer than Anders expected. How hard could a newborn be? Didn’t his sister have a husband to help out?

He was beginning to get touch starved, and the cold, dead body Justice inhabited was not something that would fulfill any of those needs. The best Anders got was Ser Pounce-a-Lot, but he was growing, too. Exploring the grounds of the Keep more. The cat always came back in time to curl up on Anders’ face, but could never substitute for human company.

So Anders let himself dive full force into research. He didn’t want Justice gone, but it was something to keep his mind occupied. Otherwise he drifted into depression when he thought of how abandoned he felt. Especially considering that in Demeter’s case, she had quite literally abandoned him.

Nyx he could excuse. She was never going to stay to begin with. But that didn’t mean he didn’t hurt from it.

And there his mind went again, starting up a pity party. Anders left his elbows on the table and thrust his head into his hands, releasing a groan. He was tired of feeling this way. Enough that—in the solitude of the study he occupied—he squeezed out a few hot tears.

It was that low moment that lead to a memory popping up. Nyx had spoken more often than not of her husband, when they chatted about her past. But she admitted he was not the only comfort she had, back then. There was also Wynne.

Wynne, who Anders knew all too well from having been tutored in creation magic by her. She praised him for his talent and natural gift in the particular school of magic, but scolded him for his...well, most everything else. What interested Anders at the moment was not her teachings, lectures, or even the comfort she gave to Nyx. These thoughts were just catalysts to a memory.

In the time of the Blight, Wynne had died and come back. Unlike Kristoff, whose spirit inhabitant arrived too late to revive him fully, the one inside of Wynne had been timely, returning soon enough to merge them into one being and return her fully to life. Well, either that or the spirit was an amazing imitation and no one had caught on to the rouse.

Either way, it was giving him an idea.

He proposed it to Justice the next day. “We’ve been thinking of it wrong,” Anders said. He’d looked up a few sources that might support his idea. While there weren’t many, he did find a few that he could point out in case the spirit had any doubt in the theory. “I’ve been trying to find a way to get you out, but that’s not something anyone knows how to do. We need to get you _in._ If we get you a new vessel, someone willing, then Kristoff’s body will be released and we don’t have to worry about killing or unmaking you.”

“And the witch’s seals that have prevented me from leaving?” Justice asked. That was the trick, after all. Demons always had the power to leave their possessed bodies, so Justice should have been the same. But it was that evil empress who put him there, and it was likely her fault for getting him stuck.

“I think this should ignore that. It’s not a removal, just a transfer,” Anders said.

“Regardless of whether or not it is possible, I have no desire to possess people. I am no demon,” Justice said, indignant.

“Yes, well, you don’t have to become one for this.” Anders quickly explained what he knew of Wynne. Nyx had mentioned it to Justice before, but hearing it from someone who knew her personally before the incident was extra reassurance that she was not utterly changed from it.

“Hmm,” Justice hummed. “There is still the trouble of someone willing to take me upon themselves.”

Without even thinking, Anders said, “I could do it.”

They stood in contemplative silence for a long moment. The offer was genuine, Anders decided, but was it the best option? Was there no one else to do it? Would he even be willing to try with someone else, knowing he could mess up rather badly and be forever to blame for whatever went wrong?

No, it almost _had_ to be him. He understood Justice. He was his friend. There would be a perfect fusion of their similar ideals. Anders was the best, if not the only choice.

“I suppose it would give me an opportunity to help mages directly,” Justice said. “Together we could make changes to how mages are seen and treated.”

Anders nodded. “It’s a perfect fit.”

All he had to do was figure out how. So much easier said than done.

But he had time. Or so he thought. Apparently, Cadmus was good on his word, and found Justice and Anders two recruits who were fully willing to join them in the Deep Roads to fight off some darkspawn. There was only one problem.

“Those two are ex-templars! Of course they want to go with us, they want the both of us _dead,_ ” Anders insisted.

“I’ve spoken with them about their behavior towards our two mage Wardens. They’ve left the templar training in the past. It was simply a difficult transition. But have they bothered you lately?” Cadmus asked.

“I...well…” No. No, they hadn’t. _Shit._ They’d not actually done anything. The looks and gestures were not something that Cadmus would count. Why wasn’t Nyx still here? She would listen! She wouldn’t let this happen, would she?

“They still threatened me before. I won’t go with two violent lyrium addicts,” Anders argued.

“After requesting a chance to be sent out? Anders, this isn’t up for debate. The decision has been made and I can’t go around looking for someone else who isn’t—”

“Who isn’t what?”

“Afraid of your friend!” Cadmus said. “He’s a walking corpse. This was supposed to be… You were supposed to have _handled_ this by now.” He ran a hand through his hair. His eyes had deep bags and his face showed lines from stress. If Anders had been less pissed at him, he might have thought to pity the man.

“I’ve nearly figured it out, I just—”

“Nearly isn’t good enough, Anders. You’re a mage; that’s something I can protect and defend from them. You have a right to be among the Grey Wardens, just as anyone else who was conscripted,” Cadmus said. “But Justice is a spirit in a body he should not have. I can’t tell people not to be terrified of that. And your being friends with him doesn’t exactly help.”

“So it’s my fault because I’m friends with Justice?” Anders said.

“That wasn’t what I meant.”

“Sounded like it to _me._ ”

“Then it came out wrong. Either way, you are going on this mission. You’re right; you’ve been cooped up here for too long. You need to be going out and being a Grey Warden. It’s not only what you are but it’s your duty to us. And I think seeing something outside the walls of Vigil’s Keep will help you. I know losing Demeter was hard, but please Anders, give this a chance.”

“I don’t seem to have a choice not to,” Anders grunted.

“No, you don’t,” Cadmus admitted. “But you can at least take the high road.”

“Screw the high road!”

Cadmus stared at him for a long moment. “Are you done?”

Anders grit his teeth. His arms were already tensed to the point of shaking, his hands balled into fists. He was rethinking everything he’d ever thought about Cadmus being a nice or decent person. He was just as blind to the troubles mages were put through as anyone else. The only reason he got along with Velanna was because she was Dalish. It had nothing to do with a compassion for those with magic.

“No, not nearly,” Anders said. “But it doesn’t matter, does it?”

“Be ready to leave an hour past dawn. You’re going to an entrance close to Lake Calenhad. It should be familiar terrain for you, but it’s a long journey. You should get some rest before you go.”

Anders turned on his heel. He’d be leaving, alright. Well, it had been nice while it lasted.

“Oh, and Anders? I’m going to want you to leave that pet of yours behind,” Cadmus added.

Anders stopped short. “What? Why? He can handle himself!”

“The Deep Roads are dangerous for a cat. Besides, he’s getting bigger. He doesn’t fit quite as snugly into your robes like he once did. And if he runs off, you’ll try to chase after him and possibly get yourself killed. We’ll look after him, here. I just can’t see a way that bringing him along doesn’t put someone in danger.”

Anders wanted to argue more. He wanted to scream his damn head off, but he was just so tired. And what would it be worth? Cadmus had his mind made up. Anders was going to the Deep Roads. He was leaving Ser Pounce-a-Lot.

Maybe he’d find a way to come back to Amaranthine and get him before deserting fully? He just had to make it through this one mission. All while sleeping with one eye open.

He packed up his things, petting Ser Pounce intermittently. Anders couldn’t bear to let the cat think he didn’t love it before he left. Ser Pounce-a-Lot deserved better than being left behind, but such was the way of things, for now. Anders would find a way. He would. He would.

Come morning, Cadmus was at his door to see that he took Ser Pounce off of Anders’ hands personally. Had it been any later, he wouldn’t have had to rouse the sleeping kitten, but it was bright and early and the little hunter was just finishing off a night of sleep.

“He’ll be well cared for, Anders,” Cadmus assured him. “And when you get back he’ll be waiting for you. I’m not so cruel as to leave him out in the cold while you’re away.”

“So you admit to some cruelty?” Anders muttered.

“No matter what you might think of the decisions I’ve made, I’m not doing these things to personally torment you. I’m doing what’s needed to serve the Grey Wardens. I’d hoped you would understand that.”

“Oh, I understand. Just as I understood that the templars were just ‘doing what was needed.’ Believe me, I know what so-called ‘good intentions’ look like,” Anders said.

Cadmus made no further comment, allowing Anders to take his pack and leave. He swallowed the quick meal that was prepared for the group leaving (only three plates; Justice didn’t eat) and went out the door.

The ex-templar fucks were waiting for him with actual grins. They were behaving like the villains from a children’s story. They practically wrung their hands and cackled with glee at the sight of Anders. Justice was already waiting with them, with a rather judgmental glare.

Thank Andraste that he’d be there. Even if they hated Justice just as much as any mage, Anders didn’t want to be in this himself. If he were, he’d definitely die. That wasn’t even a question.

_Just you two wait until the day that mages no longer see a reason to fear you. Just wait until templars are a dying breed. Injustices will not stand. Not for long._


	20. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More like Epilogues, plural. Five vignettes of moments after the end of Awakening. Not in strict chronological order, so keep that in mind.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this final chapter! Felt like just getting it up all in one day so double upload!!!

### Hera and Zevran Versus the Crows

Rivain was so much nicer than Orlais. They’d done Orlais, if only because they figured the Crows would rule it out as a place that Hera wouldn’t want to go. She was, after all, a true Ferelden. But they saw her more as Dalish than as the noblewoman she was inside, so they still sent people in pursuit of them as they camped around the Emerald Graves. Even that was better than the time they’d tried to make it in one of the deserts to the west.

But the luxury in Rivain was something Hera could get used to, even though she could hardly withstand the warmer climate. Zevran seemed pleased by the fact that it meant she walked around topless in the little place they’d picked out to squat in for a week or so, at least. She would never let the heat of her body get in the way of making wild love to her husband.

And the two of them were just insatiable.

When they weren’t home making like very creative and kinky rabbits, the two of them sought out mercenary work to keep their pockets lined with coin. Sometimes even a few assassination contracts, if it was small enough to slip past the Crows’ notice. They had one unfortunate run in with the House of Repose on one occasion, but Zevran smooth-talked his way out of it and coaxed their would-be competitor into bed with them instead of starting a little war.

Their lips were sealed, and Hera and Zevran were safe for a little longer. Though it had forced them to move on.

They wouldn’t need to take jobs if they took Nyx up on her offer to support them. She’d even offered jobs as guards, but that just wasn’t their style. Hera wanted to see the world, and Zevran wasn’t keen on the idea that he would attract Crows to the Ferelden crown. Especially since they already had an idea of what Nyx would do if any harm came to Alistair.

No, they were safer far away and with fewer connections to Nyx. Not that Hera didn’t keep up with her letters.

“She’s back in Denerim now,” Hera announced. “No more Grey Wardening for a while, from the sound of it. They already loaded her with work, plus she’s helping Alistair with anything he’s been set to work on. I know politics inside and out and this still sounds exhausting.”

“It sounds to me like you are glad you made the choice you did and ran away with me,” Zevran said, peeking over her shoulder. “A choice for which I am still grateful.”

“I could hardly let you run around on your own. Who knows what trouble you’d get into if you didn’t have me?” Hera said.

“Certainly worse trouble than I get into _with_ you around, my dear.” He planted a kiss on her cheek. “Tell our dear Wardens that we miss them terribly. Also, inform them that they should vacation in Rivain, if they’ve ever the chance. I think Nyx would find it fascinating.”

“Does that mean we’re moving on soon?” Hera asked, turning to face him proper.

“I’ve seen more eyes wandering towards me than I care for. Even with my stunning looks, the attention I drew today was strange,” Zevran said, gesturing to his face for examination.

“Mmm, yes. Still ridiculously handsome,” Hera said, stroking the underside of his chin as if he were a cat. “Actually, I’ve been thinking… Why haven’t we just gone after them? You know between the two of us we could easily overthrow the current head of the Crows. Take them over. Make it _ours._ ”

“And why would we want to control a group of assassins? Are you harboring desires to take over Antiva? Because if you are you should let me know, just so I’m aware.”

“No? Maybe. Queen of the Crows has a nice ring to it, sure, but mostly I just want to do something to make them have to permanently leave you be. And we’re good at killing. _Really_ good. Why not control one of the strongest assassin guilds this side of Thedas?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps I am turned off to the idea knowing just how they treat the children they so lovingly take in.”

“We could change all of that. Make it better.”

Zevran laughed. “Yes, a reputable assassin’s guild is just what Antiva needs.”

“I’m serious,” Hera said, furrowing her brow.

“I know you are,” he said, kissing the wrinkles on her forehead. “Which is why we should go elsewhere. This idea is entertaining to think about, certainly, but there is a likelihood it will get the both of us killed, and that’s not an idea I’m too fond of.”

Hera pulled her lips thin. “Neither am I. But I also don't want to worry about you forever.”

“I'm sorry, my dear. Those are the unfortunate hazards of my previous occupation. Glad as I am to be rid of it, I don't think I could ever be fully free. If this is too much for you…”

“No,” Hera said quickly, grabbing Zevran's hands. “I can handle this. I just wish we had a solution. Long term. Because...well…”

Zevran watched as Hera became uncharacteristically evasive. She averted her eyes, though kept her hands squeezing his. What could make her recoil like this? Make her so desperate she would consider…

“Have you...bled, lately?” Zevran asked. It took a lot for his face to color, but his cheeks were deep scarlet.

“I'm late. It could be nothing, but I've felt strange, as well. I might be…”

Zevran hugged her tight. He felt the strong urge to cry and let himself, just this once. Hera was obviously startled, taking a moment to wrap her own arms around him and return the embrace. Zevran smoothed down her red hair slowly.

“I might be a father. I never considered…”

“I haven't put much thought into it either? I don't know how I feel about it. Especially because it might not even be an it,” Hera said, pulling away. The smile on Zevran's faced eased a fair amount of her anxieties.

“Whatever happens, I am here with you.”

They kissed, more chaste than usual. It was a moment of comfort and loving. There didn't need to be the usual heat.

They would see a healer within a month, to be certain. Or they would have, had Hera not bled again. But the disappointment she felt in her sparked a desire she didn't know she had. Together, with Zevran, she wanted a child.

### Puppies

The ride to Denerim was a little chaotic, given the cargo Cadmus was bringing along. There was some unfortunate news to deliver, and some good. He hoped the gift would make it easier for Nyx to accept Anders’ disappearance.

Sunburst could not stop whining. She'd recovered fully, but hated the ride. Cadmus stroked her thick fur repeatedly, humming in efforts to relax her. It worked enough that she didn't interrupt the ride, and stopped her from getting to the point of howling.

“They're grown, girl. And Nyx will take good care of them,” Cadmus said. Sunburst didn't realize that much, of course. The pups might have understood more of it. Their genetics gave them an advantage in that regard.

Nyx had arranged quite the welcome, given how Cadmus was received. The cages we're carefully unloaded, while Sunburst paced around them, whining to see her pups let out.

“Not yet, girl. I don't want to risk them running off,” Cadmus said. The wolf gave a small growl of displeasure, still wild enough to express herself in such a way. But she settled for nudging her nose through the bars to nuzzle the puppies.

Cadmus did a slight double take when the king and queen arrived to greet him. He'd only ever seen Nyx in armor, but she looked quite good in more regal clothing. Alistair was also in more relaxed wear, though still stuffy enough to convey noble status. He didn't seem pleased by it, but kept a hold of Nyx's hand and breathed a little easier.

“Greetings, Warden Commander Andras,” Nyx said, a teasing smile tugging at her red lips.

“Queen Nyx,” Cadmus said, bowing. “And King Alistair. It is a pleasure to see you both.”

Nyx giggled and threw herself forward to hug him. “The same to you! I… _Percy!_ ”

Her mabari had rushed forward, greeting Sunburst in his own enthusiastic way. Then he became preoccupied with the cages before him. It drew Nyx's eyes straight to the pups.

“Those… They look like wolves, a bit, but…”

“It seems Sunburst and Perseus got along better than we realized,” Cadmus explained to Nyx. “I was as surprised as you are when I realized that the sickness Sunburst had contracted wasn't sickness at all.”

“They're mabari wolf dogs?” Alistair asked, unable to hide the slight hint of horror in his voice.

“The very first. I have cared for them thus far, but they're grown enough and decently trained, I thought it would be a good gift to offer to you,” Cadmus said.

“They are half Percy's,” Nyx said. “I'm sure he'll enjoy having them around.”

“This is only a few of them. I brought the three best ones. One for you, Nyx. One for your hounds master to study. The wolf genes may show some change from an ordinary mabari, and provide challenges or benefits. And one for the king,” Cadmus said.

Alistair shook his hands. “Oh I...don't think I'm up to the challenge. We should leave the third with the castle hounds master, as well.”

Nyx giggled. “It's a lovely gift, Cadmus. Thank you. But you mentioned bad news in your letter? That you preferred to discuss in person?”

“Yes.” He gestured to the doors. “This is something we might want to discuss more privately. It has to do with a Warden who has gone missing. A friend of us both.”

Nyx's face fell in an instant. Her expression turned quite serious. She looked to the man attending to the cages. “Bring those to the hounds master, please. I'm sure they will want to run around a bit after being confined for so long. Inform him of their parentage and the situation we've arranged in terms of ownership.”

“Yes, your majesty,” the man said. Perseus and Sunburst followed him without question, to look after their pups. Neither Nyx nor Cadmus saw reason to stop them.

Then Nyx turned to Cadmus again. “Commander, if you will follow us inside, we can get you a drink while you tell me what happened.”

### Cronus’ Witch Hunt

He wouldn't have bothered with the little runaround with Ariane and Finn, but he didn't like the idea of not giving the boy a chance to get away from the Circle. Besides, leaving them where they were meant changing a constant, which didn't sit well with Cronus.

Still, their weird way of flirting was starting to drive him crazy. He could have done without the company. But he also needed to prevent Ariane from doing something stupid and trying to kill Morrigan. Hadn't that been what the Changeling warned about?

Yes, he could see it. He was getting better at accessing certain timelines. He could even work past Morrigan's barriers, though his sight didn't surpass the power of Flemeth. Or the power of that green sparking. Whoever that belonged to.

“You're fiddling with that ring again,” Ariane pointed out. “Is it important? Was it...hers?”

He should have never admitted that Morrigan was his lover. It made Ariane feel the need to pester him. But, it was a good preventive measure to keep her from doing anything stupid. He couldn't fully regret it.

“Yes. She can use it to find me. But it doesn't seem to work in reverse,” Cronus explained. “Thus, some frustration.”

“Ah. Well, why didn't she ever look for you, then?” Ariane asked.

Cronus glared.

“Uh. Forget I asked.”

She scurried back to Finn's side, muttering something about the scary mage. Yes, scary indeed. She wouldn't try anything. Not if Ariane had any instinct toward self-preservation.

“I'll be with you soon, my love,” Cronus whispered to the ring. She couldn't hear him, but sometimes he got the sense that she could tell how he felt when he focused on sending that emotion through. Morrigan would feel his longing, and his love. That was enough of a message to satisfy him.

“Ah! Excellent! This mirror will be perfect for scrying!”

Cronus already knew where they were going, but let the kid have his fun. He'd been curious about seeing this place, anyway, and the eluvian that gave Nyx her start. Then, the one that sent Hera hurrying after Nyx. This was the place where a lot of things began. Merrill, that elven girl, got a start of her own here, as well.

For Cronus, this was just another step in him beginning his new life. Morrigan wouldn't leave alone, this time. And then he would get to meet his son. Kieran would have a father.

### Demeter Finds Her

The Chantry was silent, save for a gentle humming. The Bard was clever, and knew someone else was already there with her. The humming was not to make herself a target, but to draw her follower out of hiding.

Just as planned, a woman with dark skin and darker hair stepped from the shadows and smiled. “It's good to finally meet you.”

“And who might you be? No Chantry sister, that's for certain,” Leliana said. She kept her hands down, close enough to the dagger she'd concealed on her person. She didn't move her hand closer to it, certain she could be quick enough if she needed to be without giving up the game.

“No, certainly not. Mages aren't permitted to be sisters. Plus, elf,” the woman said, pulling back long strands of brown hair to reveal the fine points of her ears. “Doubly unacceptable.”

“A mage?” Leliana repeated. That was unexpected. This whole situation smelled of a trap, given the invitation without a name that offered “useful help.” But she expected a familiar enemy, or some hireling. An apostate would rarely dare to come so close to a Chantry, even if paid. Too high a chance of templars.

The woman only chuckled. “Yes. We have a mutual...well, I'm not sure if he's a friend, but an acquaintance? Cronus Amell.”

Leliana narrowed her eyes. “And what does _he_ want from me?”

“Nothing. It's what I want, because of what he did to me,” Demeter said.

“You seek revenge?”

“I seek you, actually,” the woman said. Was it a trick of the light? Or was she actually blushing? “My name is Demeter Surana. And I have seen the potential for our future.”

Leliana laughed, but it was mocking rather than mirthful. “Cronus convinced you we have a future together? Is this his way of making up for failing, before?” Leliana said.

“I...don't know what you're referring to. But I could probably guess,” Demeter said. “I didn't just get shown a future. He splintered me. Like he was.”

Leliana paled. “He knows how to do that?”

“Apparently. He's at least done it once, with me.”

“Then how much do you know?” Leliana asked. This could be bad. If Demeter decided to be an enemy, she might predict the Divine’s every move. If she didn't believe the Divine meant the best for the mages, she might oppose the Chantry’s efforts.

“Quite a lot. You've started helping the Divine. You returned to spying after life in Haven began to bore you. You're still mourning,” Demeter said. “I promise I haven't pried to deep into that. You clearly loved her dearly, however. And I'm sorry.”

“I do not desire pity,” Leliana said, nearing a hiss. “What reason do you have for revealing yourself to me? What do you think you will accomplish?”

Demeter expanded her smile to show teeth, her eyes crinkling a bit. “I'd like to offer my help. With all that I can see, I can be of great use to you. All I ask in return is protection from templars. My phylactery is already gone; destroyed. But that doesn't mean I can perform magic publically without persecution.”

“You wish to be a truly free apostate?” Leliana asked.

“In service of the Divine. It would be a progressive move, certainly.”

Leliana quirked a brow. “It may jeopardize the support the Divine has gathered.”

“She needn’t do it publically. Just as long as I am protected, I offer up my visions,” Demeter said.

It was a compelling offer, and fair terms, if difficult to work with. Demeter could only help so long as she lived. And Divine Justinia would welcome the assistance. Explaining how and why Demeter could do what she did was something of a tricky situation, but Leliana could think of something. She'd been clever even before meeting Marjolaine. That was something she credited to no other than her own self.

“This is not my decision to make,” Leliana said, maintaining neutrality. “I will contact the Divine, but you will stay with me. If she approves a meeting, we will leave for Val Royeaux.”

“That is a fair offer. I shall accompany you, then,” Demeter agreed. “And by the way, you're prettier in person than I realized you would be.”

Leliana kept being caught off her guard. The Left Hand could not fluster like she was, at that moment. But Demeter was quite beautiful.

“Flattery won't help you, I'm afraid. But I won't discourage it either,” Leliana said. For now, she would play this like the game. Flirt back. Bat her eyes. But she would not be fooled by a pretty face. “Follow me.”

### We Have the Future Part II

Alistair and Nyx had not broken their embrace since finding the time for a long night alone together. Sex was good, and they would get to it eventually. That was not in doubt. But for now, for that moment, they needed to just hold each other and remember they were together again.

“You're home,” Alistair whispered.

“I am,” Nyx whispered back.

It was odd how much she'd missed the smell of him alone. There was his warmth, his firm, muscled arms, the thick neck she had her arms around, and that little bit of scruff that brushed her cheek as she pressed the side of her face against his. But nothing was quite as intoxicating as the smell of him.

“Are you smelling me?” Alistair asked, a slight chuckle in his voice.

“Yes,” Nyx admitted, unashamed. “It's nice. I missed it. I missed _you._ ”

“I did too, my love,” he said, gently rubbing circles into her back. He pulled away so he could look at her face, then. “You wanted to discuss the...gift?”

Covert talk even in private. No one could suspect what Nyx and Alistair might do. Nyx moved away from him fully, striding over to the closet. Behind some dresses and coats and other clothing, there was a plain deep red box. It was sealed with clasps and locked. She pulled it out from its hiding spot and walked it over to the bed.

Nyx sat, patting the blankets in front of her to beckon Alistair to join her. He sat on the other side, leaning close while Nyx produced the key. The lock clicked as she undid it, then she pulled it away. The two clasps snapped as Nyx released them. Finally, she could open the box and stare at the bottle inside.

It was smaller than she remembered. Her mind had enlarged the bottle to match the importance of the liquid it contained. Morrigan's letter still sat folded at its side. Nyx opened it to review the words again.

_Nyx,_

_I am not one for lengthy and heartfelt words, so I will skip the flowery hellos that would be empty of meaning. This is a gift for you and the fool you have—for reasons beyond my understanding—decided to marry. While I am certain your days have been simply filled with wedded bliss, I know of the issue of a Warden’s changed physiology. I also am aware of the importance of kings and their heirs. So I offer you a solution._

_It was in my mother's grimoire, make of that what you will, and I offer it in part to spite her. Even dead I feel her presence, watching me and waiting to enact her plans for me. It is why I must stay hidden, and keep this child safe. But you were a true friend to me. I cannot see you again, you must understand. However, this is my offering to repay that friendship you offered._

_All you need to do is drink it on the night of conception. Half for you, half for Alistair. I recommend plugging your nose; the smell and taste are supposed to be quite horrid. Don’t try mixing it into something. It has to be taken pure. From there, you can certainly figure out the rest. If I am required to explain how children come into being, these efforts on my part were a lost cause._

_I assure you, the consequences of this potion are nothing you have not already proven yourself willing to pay. Of Alistair, I cannot say the same. Whether you tell him what it is for is your decision, Nyx. Make it wisely._

_Your friend,  
Morrigan_

It would be lying to say hiding the potion had not crossed Nyx’s mind. What would be lying would be to say that she’d really considered it. It was an instinct, but nothing more than that. She wanted never to have to lie to Alistair again.

Nyx presented the bottle to Alistair. “She never mentions the actual cost of this magic. Cronus told me, no magic comes without some price. Morrigan claims in her letter I’m willing to pay it, but…”

“Am I?” Alistair finished for her.

“Are you?”

He shook his head. “I can’t know if I don’t _know._ I almost feel like she didn’t tell you to taunt me. Did she really expect you not to tell me?”

“I think she thought she was doing me a courtesy. Letting me make the choice. As for leaving out the details… It’s not like either of us really understand Morrigan.”

“Does anyone?” Alistair asked, chuckling a little.

Nyx thought of Cronus. But she couldn’t even say that he understood and believe that it was completely true. She still left him, and hid her location from him.

“Probably not,” she decided. “I suppose this depends on what she thinks I’m willing to deal with more than what we really are. Or...how badly we need this.”

“It has been a while. And we’ve been trying,” Alistair said, rubbing the back of his head. “We’ve been trying a lot.”

“I was there,” Nyx said with a half-smile. “I know.”

He laughed with her, but the uneasiness didn’t leave his eyes. “I really want to have a baby with you, Nyx.”

She teared up. “And I want to have your baby, Alistair.” She put her hand on his, the other still holding the bottle. “It may never happen another way. It may be that this is our only option. We could keep it for another year and revisit it, but you know we’d both be thinking of it every so often, staring at that closet and wondering. So I say we just make the decision. Yes or no. Even if it’s a split decision, we get rid of it. No maybes.”

Alistair took one heavy breath. “You’ve made up your mind, haven’t you?”

Nyx nodded.

“You want to take it, don’t you?”

She nodded again, a little more emotion to the gesture.

Nyx left it up to him. If he wasn’t willing now, he probably never would be. That was why she made the ultimatum. It was for them both. They could let go of this thought, or put an end to their hopeless efforts and get their guaranteed success from a bottle. Nyx hated to admit it, but this was all or nothing. Curing the taint might prove impossible. Beating the taint already seemed to be, from how often they’d tried for a child naturally.

Unless the problem was their own biology. And if that was the case, if one or both of them were barren even before the Joining, this potion truly _was_ their only chance. Morrigan seemed to believe it was a sure thing. Nyx simply put the pieces together in her mind and concluded that it would even surpass her own natural state.

Alistair drew her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, breaking her stream of consciousness. She focused on him wholly, on his hazel eyes and that soft curve of his lips. Nyx so adored him. She would accept his decision either way.

“We’ll need a couple of glasses, to make sure we’re both taking the right amount,” Alistair said.

Nyx exhaled. She didn’t even know she’d been holding that breath until she released it. She moved her hand to grab his chin and pulled him in to kiss him.

“I can get them,” Nyx said.

“No no, allow _me,_ dear lady,” Alistair said.

He stood with a flourish and a bow, making her giggle. He was quick to find two glasses in a cabinet, surely meant for decoration and possibly a bit dusty. He wiped the inside of them with his shirt just in case, and brought them to Nyx. She poured out what appeared to be half to her, then most of the rest in the other. She compared until she got it as close to perfect as she could, then put the bottle down when she was satisfied with her efforts.

“Morrigan said you should plug your nose,” Nyx said. Bringing the glass close to her face, she could tell why. It was worse than the concoction meant for the Joining.

“Worse than taint,” Alistair said, mirroring Nyx’s own thought. “I think I’ll take that advice.”

It was down the hatch for both of them. They each made faces of disgust; even guarding their sense of smell could only help so much. Then they saw each other looking ridiculous and couldn’t help but laugh. If this was truly dark magic, it wasn’t something they felt in them. Just happiness. Joy. Euphoria.

And so they kissed. And kissed and kissed until they fell onto the pillows together. The rest of the process was a practiced art, one they knew well. Still, they took their time, enjoying whatever added rush the potion had given them and enjoying each other. By the end of the night, Nyx felt warm. Warm and sated.

She stared at the ceiling while Alistair slowly fell asleep, and thought of names. There were so many good ones to give a child—boy or girl—and many friends to whom she could pay tribute. Maybe Tamlen, for a boy. Or Duncan. Alistair would love that one. For girls...would Artemis mind a shem child bearing her name? Perhaps something else then. Something entirely unique.

Nyx turned to her side for the view out the window. She stared at the stars and mulled it over a while more, before her eyes could no longer stay open. She slept easily, with no worries in her heart and Alistair’s hand over her belly.


End file.
